


Getting Domestic

by mansikka



Series: Getting Domestic [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 53,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: When Dean and Cas finally get their heads out their asses, domesticity ensues.





	1. In the beginning...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wayward_Mom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wayward_Mom/gifts), [Desirae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desirae/gifts).



> **fic update** the amazing dmsilvis has made my entire year by deciding to do art for this series! I'll be updating each chapter with it as soon as I can, but in the meantime please head over to her [tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/) to see all her amazing art.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hello :) this is a belated Christmas gift for Wayward_Mom and Desirae, who took part in a sort of 'fill in the gaps' activity to help create the first chapter, and then gave me suggestions for the rest. I totally take the blame for everything that follows though :D 
> 
> Some of you may have noticed the advent calendar stories I post on Tumblr. I decided that it would be fun to do a similar thing again, just not as an advent. So, for every day of this month, there'll be an update to this story, in a similar style to the ones I did at Christmas. 
> 
> These are mostly fluffy snapshots, and while they fit together, you could, I guess, read them on their own; there's no cliffhangers or reasons to worry about what's coming next, because they really are mostly just silly fluff. The stuff that isn't fluff is not angsty or anything because of Dean or Cas really, and generally speaking the entire thing is without argument; I think one of them gives the other the silent treatment for perhaps a couple of hours in total throughout the whole thing. Also, there are people that are canonically dead that are... not. Just so you know. 
> 
> Some of the 'chapters' are long, some are short, some link to others and most are just plain silly. It was fun writing them and I hope they're fun to read too :) x
> 
> * * *

 

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/post/175425035213/getting-domestic-chapter-1-in-the-beginning)

[dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

When Dean and Cas finally get their heads out their asses and acknowledge that they at least _notice_ one another, Sam uses the cash he makes from winning the betting pool running amongst their friends to buy a new coffee-maker. Their first kiss is mid-hunt for a Wendigo, and it’s messy, and sloppy, and attracts hollers from a passing Bachelorette party. But they’re happy; far happier than either one of them thought they were capable of being.

And when they actually _admit_  they’re together, it’s not _romantic_ , or _deep and meaningful_ ; just the slotting together of two parts of a puzzle that were always meant to fit. Long, long overdue, according to everyone around them, and especially themselves, but very much like coming home. Finding where they belong.

That doesn’t mean they’re _not_ romantic, of course; between frequent kisses and the need to constantly _be_ together, there’s gestures from each of them to show the other just how much they care. Dean favors cooking while Cas chooses to help wash Baby, and there are date nights, duvet mornings, and private moments together snatched away from prying eyes (and Sam) when they’re working a case and just need at least a few seconds alone.

Dean is the first to say _I love you_ , and Cas the first to give apology gifts in the form of pie-flavored lube. Their first real fight is about Dean not being careful enough on hunts, and their making up goes on for several extremely long, loud hours having apparently (at least to Sam’s poor ears) earth-shattering sex. Sam tells Dean later that he’s traumatized for life for having to witness the whole thing, and will definitely never unsee it, but Dean’s too happy to care. So just pats him on the shoulder, hands him an uncapped beer, then continues what he was doing before Sam’s blushing interruption; remembering his and Cas’ making up in minute detail, and debating starting another, smaller argument just to do it all over again.

Cas moves into Dean’s bedroom a month later, and Dean won’t admit to anyone that he’s a clingy octopus in bed, or that Cas is a snorer; it feels too private, too _precious_ , really, to share with anyone else. In fact, much of what they do together isn’t shared with anyone; they’re just together, and everyone around them accepts that, turns blind eyes to the way they lean into one another, squeeze hands beneath the table at dinner when they think no one is looking, and wrap themselves up in hugs and kisses when they’re having bad days. (Everyone might have a group chat talking about it, however, saying that really, Dean and Cas’ behavior is not all that different than before).

After they’ve been together a year, Dean makes it official; by shoving a ring on Cas’ finger and declaring that they’re engaged. There’s a brief wedding ceremony with pie, liquor, and forged wedding papers, and not a dry eye in the barn where they have the ceremony, and before the ink is barely dry on those papers Dean is sweeping Cas up in his arms and kissing him hard, ignoring the catcalls around them, and the triumphant tears on both of their faces.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

There’s a brief honeymoon which involves a trip to the Grand Canyon, which is blissful, and both Dean and Cas feel is over far too soon. They promise to start taking weekends together just for themselves, telling themselves it’s just as much for Sam’s sake as theirs. Dean even lets Cas drive the Impala part of the way home, and Cas’ new driving licence with the name Castiel Winchester on it is brandished at every opportunity whether necessary or not; as is his liberal use of the phrase _my husband_ , which makes Dean flustered, but beam from ear to ear every time he hears it.

And a year later, when they decide to cut back on the hunting life, they move out of the bunker, and into a fixer-upper, where they decorate their bedroom green with natural wood accents, their lounge bumblebee yellow, and leave the bathroom and kitchen as they are when they move in.

Dean takes up car repair and Cas gardening, and they’re about as domestic as either one of them is likely to get. Sam visits frequently, pretends he only comes for Dean’s cooking, and says he doesn’t miss the sounds he used to hear from them in the bunker when they all lived together. Sometimes he brings Eileen with him, both of them rolling their eyes at Dean’s attempts to tease.

Dean will always need his brother in his life, but one of his favorite moments is when he closes the door behind him after loading Sam up with Tupperware boxes teeming with food, and Cas is waiting there with that smile that says _I’m here, we’re alone again, I’m content to be just this with you_. And Dean never fails to step forward, sweep Cas up in his arms and hold him tight, relish in the warmth of Cas right there next to him, before they pull apart, take a pause for the briefest of kisses, then clear up after their meal with Sam, and plan the rest of their day.


	2. Adventures in social media

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
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> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)   
> 

“What’re you looking at?”

Dean peers over Cas’ shoulder as he comes downstairs from folding away laundry, and winces at the number of tabs open on the laptop, determined to keep it in mind for the next time Cas complains their internet is slow.

“Social media.”

“...all of it?”

But Cas only nods, distracted with a look of pure concentration on his face as Dean ducks enough to kiss him on the cheek to check.

“Cas—”

“I am trying to find a post that I saw on my Tumblr dashboard.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.”

Seriously, Dean thinks, hands up and squeezing over his shoulders, it’s like pulling teeth when Cas is in one of these moods. He’s going to be speaking to Claire about this when she next comes over for dinner, he sighs, knowing without even have to ask that she is responsible for this… discovery of Cas’.

“What was it about?”

“Fandom etiquette. Discussing the pros and cons of keeping your opinions to yourself on things that you dislike. There was a similar discussion on a Reddit thread that was… enlightening, though less aggressive. I wanted to compare the two.”

“What happened to the cat pictures you used to look at all the time, huh?” Dean asks, with another squeeze over his shoulders from where he’s stood behind the couch, deciding that it’s time for coffee for them both. Cas doesn’t say a word, but when Dean returns he knows he’s been listening to him because he clicks on the tab for Instagram the moment he’s back and lets out a soft contented sigh.

“This one is my favorite,” Cas tells him, reaching up to squeeze over Dean’s fingers where he’s wrapped them around his shoulders once again. Dean watches Cas click through picture after picture of a pissed off looking tabby with a wardrobe far more extensive than either of theirs and smiles.

“How come?”

“She has a very intriguing character and impeccable taste.”

 _Well, okay, then, Cas_ , Dean thinks, but doesn’t say out loud, instead looks at all the other tabs open as Cas goes back to Tumblr, leans over, and points. “What’s this one?”

“VK,” Cas says, pressing something in the corner of his Tumblr page that makes a heart jump out, then clicks out of it with a resigned sigh. “I will wait to see the post again.”

“VK?”

“Yes,” Cas replies, clicking on to it, and Dean doesn’t know why he’s so surprised to see the page full of Russian.

“Uh… you understand that, right?” he asks. Cas immediately looks up at him with a smile on his face, and says something that sounds like it ends in the word _mishka_ , then turns back to the screen and pulls up an on-screen Cyrillic keyboard to add a comment to a picture on a page that looks like it’s about comets. Dean huffs, shakes his head, and walks away.

When he returns with their coffees held in one hand, and a plate of the cookies Cas insists they buy from his favorite bakery in another, Cas takes one absently from the extended plate, and hums in approval as Dean sinks down on the couch beside him.

"Any, uh… any word from Jack?" Dean asks, waiting with baited breath for Cas' mood to dip for the mention of his name.

Cas still blames himself for Jack disappearing. Even if Jack's occasional emails remind him time and time again that this was his decision, his choice to explore the world and make his own way in life.

"Currently, Jack is in a small town outside of Dublin, enjoying Guinness and  _ the craic _ ."

Dean snorts at both the disdain in Cas' voice and his terrible attempt at an Irish accent, the picture of innocence when Cas looks his way. "Well. That's  _ good _ , Cas."

"Jack is, theoretically still very much a child."

"A child with… all kinds of powers," Dean points out, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "He can take care of himself."

It's not like Dean doesn't worry about Jack too at times, wishing he'd check in more from wherever he is in the world. But he understands Jack's need to figure himself out; and there aren't many Winchesters who have ever got the chance to do that.

“What else you got going on here?” Dean asks to change the subject, squeezing a hand over his thigh as he passes him his coffee to put on the other side of their coffee table.

“Facebook. Twitter. Pinterest. Snapchat—”

“Snapchat?”

“Yes,” Cas says with a smile in his voice, clicking through to show him a picture of Claire with some kind of avatar thing that makes her nose scrunch up like a dog’s.

“How the hell’ve you got time for all of these?”

“Generally, I only have notifications for the things I want to see on my cell phone, but Claire mentioned me in a group notification on Facebook, so I thought I would look at some of the others as I am here.”

“ _Some_ ,” Dean says with a laugh that earns him a disgruntled wriggle in his side. But then Cas is turning and smiling at him ruefully, his cheeks lit by the tiniest amount of blush, and Cas is leaning in to kiss him before pulling back, nodding once more towards the screen.

“This is my favorite Youtube channel,” he says then, and Dean watches the way his fingers fly confidently over the keyboard, unable to forget Cas’ earlier attempts at getting to grips with technology and his repeated complaints that he didn’t trust it. Things have, apparently, changed a little since then. But the smile on his face as he settles back to watch a seven-minute-long video about a humpback whale protecting a diver means Dean’s snuggling closer, balancing the cookies on his knee so they’re in easy reach of them both, and pressing a kiss to Cas’ temple as he settles properly to watch.

 

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)


	3. In the shed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
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>  
> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
> 

“Dean. _Dean_.”

Cas’ voice is high and excitable, and Dean runs around the back of the house from where he’s been fixing up the neighbor’s car in his _garage_ , fearing he’s tripped over that planter pot he keeps meaning to move again and broken something, like a leg. Cas is nowhere to be seen, which makes Dean’s heart thud harder; there can’t be too many places he could have fallen in their backyard—it’s big, but not _that_ big. Dean puts down the wrench on the decking and heads out over the grass, making a mental note that he needs to top up the gas in the lawnmower.

“Cas?”

“Dean. Quickly,” Cas calls again, which has Dean charging towards the shed at the furthest edge of their property, hoping he’s not going to find something unpleasant inside.

About a month after they’d moved in and made it at least presentable for guests, Claire had been one of their first visitors—and the very first to stay. She’d even made a comment about having to check up on her two dads to make sure they were settled in; Cas hadn’t stopped smiling about it for a solid two days after she’d gone home.

But while she’d been there with them out on a walk so Cas could show her the neighborhood, a rustling behind the recycling area about ten minutes from their house had led to the discovery of a dog scavenging for scraps. Cas had been so brokenhearted that he’d insisted one of them run to the nearest store for food, then had patiently coaxed the poor thing forward and encouraged it to eat, making a makeshift bowl out of his own hands to give it water.

The dog had run off then, startled by a too-loud car turning nearby, but it had inspired both Cas and Claire, who on their return to the house announced they should have somewhere in their backyard for stray animals to shelter. Dean had grumbled in complaint, though was already coming up with ideas on its construction, and the resultant _shed_ is the thing Cas is calling to him from now.

Dean isn’t sure how he’s coaxed them all in, but since the shed's been there he’s seen Cas with three dogs including that timid one from behind the recycling, and more cats than he can count. There was even a chicken once, pecking corn straight from Cas’ fingers as he spoke to it softly, but that too was startled by a too-loud car, and Dean is sure Cas now looks at the Impala in reproach every time she roars.

Dean ducks in through the doorway braced for bad things; either Cas with an injury or a cat that’s past its best. And while he’ll never object to seeing Cas’ ass in the air, it’s not the view he’s expecting; finding Cas on all fours and cooing at the very corner of the shed with no thought for what he might be knelt in.

“Cas?”

“Dean, _look_ ,” Cas insists, excitedly beckoning him over but his voice a lot softer now he’s got his attention. Dean huffs under his breath but walks forward, and crouches, holding on to one of the huge tubs they keep dry cat and dog food in for future _guests_ for balance.

  
[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)   


“What?” he asks, but a second later has his answer. Wedged right in the corner as far away from contact as possible is a frankly fat cat, breathing a little more rapidly than Dean thinks is normal. But it’s fine, to be expected, probably—not that he knows much about cats giving birth. There’s three mostly orange ones already stumbling over each other, and from the looks of things, a fourth is about to join them.

“Dean,” Cas says in reverence, turning to look at him with such pride and awe in his voice that Dean wants to lean in and kiss him for it, but doesn’t think it’s quite the time.

“Think they’re doing okay?”

“They’re perfect,” Cas insists, a contented little sigh blasting from his lips as that fourth kitten pops out.

Dean’s got cramp in his calves, and his back is going to protest for about a year when he finally stands upright. But he can’t look away; neither from the birth he’s witnessing, nor the look of sheer adulation on Cas’ face. So they stay right there, watching as a fifth and tiny sixth kitten arrive, whispering suggestions for names at each other as the sky turns to dusk, and Cas makes plans for a way to give the new mother cat some privacy, as Dean turns those plans into practical things he can make with his hands.


	4. Car adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which, Cas thinks Dean will be angry with him (and he isn't)

The sun is high overhead, and it's just the right temperature to mean he doesn't need a jacket, which Dean is thankful for as he walks back home. Chris, a guy who lives a couple of streets down from theirs, knocked on their door around seven this morning, and though Dean's first instinct was to reach for the gun that has progressed from under his pillow to on the nightstand behind a photo frame of Mom, Sam, and Eileen, he'd been glad he hadn't drawn it to answer him with. Chris' nervous, guilt-ridden face when he swung the door open had made Dean feel like he'd just kicked a puppy; something he'd never do anyway, but Cas would've torn him a new one for if he had.

Apparently, Dean thinks, turning his face up blissfully in the breeze, he's making a reputation for himself around here. He has to have fixed about ten of the neighbor's cars by now, and that word-of-mouth is getting him more calls from strangers who want to ask him about spark plugs and strange clunking noises in their engines than for things that go bump in the night. He likes that change a _lot_.

Chris' car had decided not to start when he desperately needed to get to work that morning. Dean had thrown on clothes in seconds and driven him back home, took one look at the car, and knew it would be most of a day's work. Then had taken pity on Chris, whose face had paled at the thought of missing an important morning meeting, and offered to drive him to work, saying he might as well since he'd need to get some parts to fix his car anyway.

Cas had stirred only enough to grumble at him for a goodbye kiss then rolled over fast asleep, putting a smile on Dean's face as he'd jogged down the stairs, and ushered Chris into the Impala. It had seemed such a nice morning, that he'd dropped the parts off at Chris' then driven home to pick up a few tools he needed, and walked back to fix the car, happy to lose himself in the manual labor for a few hours.

And now Dean's heading home, satisfied at what, even if he does say so himself, is a job well done. Chris' text message promises he'll be over after work to pay him, Dean has nothing else he needs to do for the rest of the day, and his thoughts are of a shower he's going to persuade Cas to join him for.  And after that, a late lunch to end all lunches—in the backyard so they can enjoy the afternoon sun, Cas can show him the additions to the flowerbeds he's been planning, and they can both sneak peeks at the kittens currently stumbling their way around their _shed_.

Dean smiles when he thinks of the kittens, four of the six already having homes earmarked around their neighborhood once word got out. Cas mumbles proud praise for the mother cat every time he goes in to top up their food, and Dean's waiting for the day that Cas makes those puppy-dog eyes at him that are forever worse than Sam's for them to keep a kitten themselves. Or both of them. Or the mother cat. Or all.

Cas seems to have sensed him coming, Dean thinks then, smiling at the sight of Cas waiting for him on their front porch. He speeds up a little, excited to see him as he is always excited to see him, the smile on his face freezing for the forlorn look on Cas'.

"Hey," he calls out, and Cas shuffles down the steps towards him, hands wringing tight worriedly the closer he gets.

"Dean—"

"Hey," Dean says softer, closing the gap between them and cupping Cas' face to lift it. "You okay?"

"I am sorry, Dean," Cas says, lifting his head up suddenly with nothing but pleading in his eyes.

"What? Why?"

"I wanted to do something nice for you. You were so kind to Chris this morning when you didn't have to be—"

"Cas—"

"And you said I could drive it without asking—"

" _Cas_ —"

"The key was right there on the table where you usually leave it, and I just thought… I thought it would be _nice_ ," Cas says earnestly, looking so contrite Dean has to crowd up against him and kiss it off his face.

"Cas. Babe. Tell me," he says, wrapping his arms around him securely when he tries to wriggle away.

"I only meant to help—"

"I'm sure you did; whatever it is."

"Dean," Cas pleads, and Dean loathes the thought that he's made him worry so much about telling him he's done something _wrong_.

"Hey. I love you. It don't matter what's happened, okay?" and now Dean's really starting to fear the worst. Has he broken something that means the house is about to fall down around their ears? Has something other than a cat or dog turned up in their shed, like an ostrich or something, and he's trying to find convincing arguments for why they should keep it?

"Come with me," Cas sighs, resigned, slipping his fingers through Dean's and tugging, and Dean goes as led, following Cas around the side of the house.

The Impala winks back at him, shinier than she had been this morning; in fact, Dean had been considering treating her to a wax. But as he looks at her, takes in the way the doors and windows are all wide open—even the trunk popped like it needs some fresh air—Cas seems to crumple a little more beside him.

"The windows were only open a little," Cas begins to explain. "I only opened mine and yours, or, I suppose, yours and mine, so there was a little air when I was driving. You know I get a little motion sickness when we need to use the back road to town."

"I do," Dean says absently, moving to get closer, though now Cas has got him here, he seems to be holding him back.

"The tires are perfectly calibrated; I put in the exact amount of air that was required, just as you showed me."

"Cas—"

"I even bought that air freshener you said was too extravagant," Cas adds, his eyes boring into Dean's begging for forgiveness.

"Cas—"

"I didn't realize how much water could come in through such a small gap," Cas whispers, and bless him, there are tears in his eyes.

" _Cas_ —"

"I only meant to wash her for you," Cas adds, and now his lip is trembling, and Dean has to have him in his arms.

He holds him tightly, peering over Cas' shoulder even as he mutters apologies into his own, surveying the damage to the car. It doesn't look _that_ bad, and she's definitely been through worse, but there's no way it'll be dry enough to drive for a little bit. They've not got anywhere they need to be though, and it's not like they can't have groceries delivered, so it's not that big of a deal.

Cas is heartbroken though, shuffling ever closer, and Dean's horrified to realize the back of his hair's still damp, as are his clothes, meaning he's driven home from the car wash fairly recently and has worked himself into such a state he hasn't even changed.

"C'mon," Dean mumbles into his ear, tugging on Cas' hand to drag him inside.

"Dean—"

"You can't stand there in wet clothes all day, Cas, you'll get sick."

"But—"

"She'll dry, Cas. And unlike you, she's not gonna have a cute sneezing fit if she catches cold," he smiles, unslotting their fingers and wrapping his arm around Cas' waist to pull him in tight, dropping a loud kiss on his cheek.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Dean—"

"And you can make it up to me in the shower," Dean adds with a wink. Cas looks startled, as though he's still expecting a barrage of harsher words, which Dean hates that he'd even expect that from him; promises himself he'll work on undoing the idea that anything is more important to him than Cas is.

"I—"

"You can _really_ make it up to me in the shower," Dean tells him, turning just enough to claim a kiss, then because he has to, turns Cas in his arms properly, and kisses him so thoroughly that Cas seems to melt against him as he starts to relax.

"I am sorry about the Impala, Dean," Cas says once he's pulled back, sighing as he finally holds his gaze.

"I love you," Dean repeats, because there is nothing else he needs to say, and no other answer he has to give. He presses one final kiss to Cas' cheek, tilts his chin towards the stairs, then grabs his hand, and tugs him towards them.

 

 


	5. An unexpected gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
> 

Dean polishes the side of the Impala with a final flourish and grins to himself at the shine. The car seats have dried out perfectly since Cas' little adventure with the car wash, and she's just as beautiful as ever. Cas' bordering-on-obsession with social media has paid off in this instance, with Cas frantically studying Youtube videos before Dean had arrived home about how best to dry it out.

The weather is still beautiful; it's been like this for a stretch of almost two weeks now. And since they've nothing else to deal with that's urgent, Dean thinks the best way to spend the rest of their afternoon is with Cas and Baby on the open highway, maybe pulling in for something to eat somewhere when it gets dark.

Cas is checking the _shed_ , fretting over the kittens, who are becoming livelier and more boisterous by the hour, and more vocal than Dean might have expected. Dean's assured him that they're not going to all escape in the few hours they're gone, but has fashioned a door to the shed out of poultry netting and some scraps of wood, just in case.

Cas is walking towards him now, actually, eyes down on his phone and no doubt checking up on all those notifications that would keep his phone pinging late into the night if he hadn't silenced all but the ones that were _necessary_. He looks up a couple of feet from Dean and beams at him, and it still catches Dean's breath in his throat when he does that sometimes.

Dean closes the gap between them and kisses him, drawing Cas closer, luxuriating in the feel of him next to him, and having an idle thought of a round two of that shower they'd had when he'd got back to find the Impala with her impromptu interior wash. But there's time for that when they get back; he's got a surprise for Cas that wasn't really ever meant to be a surprise, just something he'd not got around to doing. Now is a really good time for it, and Dean's not had all that many chances to get this romantic gesture stuff right, so he pulls away, smiling as Cas chases after him disgruntled, leans in for one final peck then is guiding Cas into his seat, before he runs back to check the house is secure.

"Where are we going?" Cas asks once he slides in and closes the door behind him.

"Wherever we feel like," Dean smiles, concentrating on reversing out the drive for a moment then swinging the car around, and crawling slowly up the street where he's seen two kids on bikes, then turns out on to the main road.

They drive for a couple of hours, and it's hilarious still that at every junction when he asks Cas which way they're turning, Cas debates the pros and cons of it with himself for far longer than necessary, while still tending to favor right each time. The sky is beautiful, the roads quiet, and the scenery around them peaceful; Dean's got Cas' hand laced through his against his thigh, and there's nothing more he wants in the world.

After another hour, Cas confesses he's hungry, and though it's probably more his typical sweet tooth than any real need for food calling, Dean pulls them into a place that's got a cafe, a kebab bar, and a dilapidated-looking ice cream house. Cas grabs Dean's hand the second he's out of the car and drags him towards the ice cream house confirming Dean's suspicions, and in an impressive under-five-minutes, there's a tower of ice cream between them covered in all the toppings and sauces imaginable.

"You've got a—" Dean begins to say, gesturing towards the brown smear to the corner of Cas' mouth, forgetting he can do sappy shit like this now. So he grabs up a napkin, leans across the table precariously so he doesn't get a face full of ice cream, and dabs it away. The pleased look of surprise on Cas' face is the ultimate reward, Dean thinks; even if Cas reaches out to thank him by squeezing his hand—with his own sticky with a spill of toffee sauce.

When they've cleaned up, and Cas is holding his stomach while also complaining about brain freeze, Dean leans back in his chair and smiles at him across the table unable to help himself, thinking that this is about as good as life gets. Cas realizes he's watching him eventually, looking up from muttering down at his stomach until he notices Dean's not answering back. His look for him then is sheepish, and it's the little blush that hits Cas' cheeks that has Dean pulling him to his feet, and tugging him outside.

"Uh, where're you going, Cas?" he asks, pulling him back from heading towards the Impala. Cas looks at him in such confusion Dean has to crowd up against him for a kiss.

"Dean?"

"Just… looked like you were heading for the passenger seat, is all," Dean says, slotting his fingers into the backs of his jeans for a second before pulling back.

"Yes."

"Don't wanna drive, Cas?"

"I… wasn't sure that you'd trust me to after the—the _incident_ , with the water," Cas says, eyes down in contrition until Dean lifts his chin with a fingertip and winks, making him blush again.

"How's washing a car the same as driving one?" he says, taking Cas by the hand as he pulls him towards the Impala.

"It's not. But it's—"

"Cas," Dean says, turning and leaning him back against it, "it happens, okay? Can't say I've not done similar and worse myself. Stop worrying about it. I trust you," which is apparently the very thing to say for the pleased, shy smile on his face.

"I trust you too," Cas says softly, and it's like their first love confession all over again.

"You sap," Dean teases, but he leans in and hugs him close, allows himself to enjoy the feel of Cas pressed there against him leaning on the side of the Impala, and smiles to himself again at his luck.

"Would you like us to go home?" Cas asks when Dean pulls back and squeezes at his waist.

"I think we can stay out a couple more hours," Dean shrugs, then reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out a royal blue-colored box that fits his palm.

"What's this?"

"Yours is what it is, Cas," Dean replies, holding it out and watching Cas gently crack the lid back, his fingers reaching out hesitantly to stroke over the key nestled inside. It's far cleaner and unscratched than his own Impala key, but Dean figures it should be given how much it cost to make it—not that cost is an issue when it comes to things for Cas, of course.

"My own key?" Cas says, his voice utterly bewildered. Dean knows it's only a stupid key, but also knows that Cas gets the gesture, so to hear him practically on the verge of choking up is kind of a big deal for him as well.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Yeah, Cas," he says, squeezing at his waist with the fingers still gripped there. "Told you I'd give you everything I got—everything I _am_ , when we said them vows." He'd meant every one of them at the time and continues to mean them, even if his heart does a residual frantic pound for letting his _words_ out.

"Dean," Cas says in utter awe, wrapping the key up carefully in his palm as he snaps the box shut, then throws his arms around his shoulders and pulls him back into a hug. Dean goes willingly, stroking soothing circles into his back as Cas clings to him, dropping repeated kisses to the back of his head—just because he feels like it.

Cas is a smooth and steady driver, not as slow as Dean sometimes teases him for being, nor as overly-cautious as he occasionally accuses him of. He keeps up a constant string of commentary on how the Impala _feels_ to drive, in between pointing out scenery he doesn't want Dean to miss, and Dean smiles through every word of it.

Dean's hand is curled in Cas' against Cas' lap, slouched in the passenger seat with his other hand out the open window feeling the wind rush by. He's more content than he's ever been, but then his life with Cas now is full of moments like this. He leans just enough to kiss Cas on the shoulder then settles back in his seat, listening to Cas as he watches the world go by.


	6. Kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"Goodbye, Mr. Cas."

Dean looks around from where he's been leaning on the pillar outside their local library to find a tiny girl in a bright green jacket turning back to wave enthusiastically at Cas, as her mother turns to look and smiles as well, before leading her daughter down the stairs.

"Well, hello, _Mister Cas_ ," Dean teases, kissing him in greeting.

"I much prefer it when people call me _Mr. Winchester_ ," Cas replies, nuzzling against his cheek before turning to take Dean's hand.

"Yeah, me too."

"Can we go for lunch?" Cas says, squeezing his fingers as they walk down the steps, and as Dean expected, he points straight at his favorite cafe across the street from the library where he's been working part-time for coming up to three months.

"Of course. I parked there thinking you might wanna," Dean says, pointing to the Impala just a few parking spaces away from them.

"I am very hungry."

"Busy morning?" Dean asks, but they're brought to a stop by a couple and their twin boys, clearly two more of the children who were just in the group Cas has been reading to for the shy way they mumble greetings at him.

"I just wanted to say, Mr. Winchester, that these two _love_ coming to the library to hear you read," the father says with a warm smile, nodding to Dean in greeting with a small smile.

"Thank you for agreeing to work the entire winter break; they were so excited when they came home Saturday to say you were doing extra readings over the holiday," the mother adds, patting the head of one of the boys as he ducks into her side.

"It is my pleasure," Cas replies as he smiles back at them with softness in his eyes for the two boys, then takes a moment to introduce Dean to them all. The boys have already met Dean briefly when he'd arrived a few minutes early to pick Cas up and had ducked into the library to listen to him. Cas is damn adorable in front of his enthralled young audience, and Dean's also got a bit of a thing for hearing him read, so it's quite often he tries to sneak in a little early to catch a few words.

"His car is the coolest ever," the slightly taller of the two boys whispers loudly to their dad while peering up at Dean, winning Dean over immediately.

They speak a little longer of their plans for the week, then say their goodbyes, with further, _goodbye, Mr. Cas'_ muttered after him. Dean loves it; for the proud, pleased look on Cas' face, and the awe in so many of the kids he sees milling around him like he's some kind of child whisperer or something.

In fact, Dean thinks, holding the door of the cafe open for him a few minutes later, Cas is a natural with kids. Dean's not sure if it's residual instinct from Jimmy raising Claire, or something instilled in him from elsewhere, but be it screaming toddler or struggling teen, kids seem to just _click_ with Cas. Dean's sure Claire won't agree with him on that for the way she teases Cas sometimes, though he's seen the affection between them and recognizes a bluff when he hears one.

"It was a great group today," Cas enthuses, sinking down into his chair and straightening up the salt shaker as he snatches up the menu.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Cas beams at him across the table, reaching out to squeeze his hand for a second. "There were twenty-seven of them, all exceptionally well-behaved. They thoroughly enjoyed the book we read together."

"That's great, Cas," Dean smiles, squeezing his hand before Cas can withdraw it, and has a wistful moment of thinking how great a dad Cas would be if given the chance. But then they're ordering, and Cas is telling him about his morning, and they're discussing how they have about another week before all the kittens will be ready to go to their new homes. Cas is missing them already, maybe even more so now that the final two have found prospective homes as well.

"You ever think about us having kids, Cas?" Dean blurts out before he can control his mouth.

Cas pauses from taking a sip of the coffee that's just been brought to their table, and stares at him over the top of it. "Dean?"

"I mean, I know we can't; not with our life, even here. We never really know if we're gonna have to take off for a case if we're needed, and that's no environment to raise a kid in. Kinda got experience of that, and it's not something I'd want for my kid."

"Claire does insist on referring to us as _her two dads_ ," Cas smiles, but Dean knows he gets it, can tell from the wistful look now taking over his face.

"Yeah," Dean sighs, sitting back enough for the plate being slid in front of him and mumbling his thanks for it.

"Dean; if we have the opportunity—I suppose we cannot predict what will happen in the future— but I agree with you; a hunting life is no place for children."

Dean smiles, recognizing the look on Cas' face for thinking of his and Sam's own childhood, and doesn't want the conversation to turn to that. "Maybe we'll get another mother cat hearing about our maternity shed, huh, Cas?"

"Dean—"

"And these kids here in the library adore you—"

"Dean," Cas says a little firmer, smiling when Dean looks back at him and nods. "I cannot think of anyone who would be a greater father than you. You have practice, after all—"

"It's not the same—"

"No, it isn't," Cas agrees, "because if we were to have children, it would be through _choice_ ; not something forced on you because someone _else_ was neglecting their responsibilities."

Dean sags a little. He clearly hasn't changed the subject quick enough, but doesn't know what to add, so shoves a forkful of food in his mouth and chews it slowly to avoid having to say anything.

"We don't know what the future holds, Dean," Cas repeats a little softer, and he stills gets this look of awe about him every time he says things like that. "But if in that future, there is an opportunity for us to have a child, one that we can care for, and nurture, and provide everything we can for; then I would like that very much."

"You would?" Dean says once he's swallowed his food.

"Yes," Cas smiles, nudging at his knee beneath the table. "I want to experience everything it is possible to experience with you. Including, if we can, parenthood. If we have the opportunity. Even if it is years from now. Even if our home becomes a refuge for children whose parents are hunters, or those children who are caught up in hunts and are… alone."

"Kinda sounds like you've given this some thought, Cas," Dean says, a little in awe himself.

"I have," Cas smiles. "If we can one day provide a home for those who most need it, I think that would be very satisfying, and rewarding, for us both."

Dean's mind fills immediately with the idea of children coming and going in their home, of Cas chasing them around the garden, and himself hoisting them up on to a chair so he can teach them to cook, or even learn the parts of the car. Then he thinks of having a child that is just theirs, that they get to keep, that will never be taken from them, and decides he wants both, if he can have it. And like Cas says; who knows what the future will bring?

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

A future with Cas is something he always thought to be beyond his wildest dreams, but now he's living a life with him and that future's possible, who knows what else might come their way? Cas is right, Dean decides; they can't know what's around the corner for them, but if a child happens to come into their life, then that might just be the icing on the cake.

But for now, he's got his husband sat across the table with him, a free afternoon, and not a care in the world. Life is good, Dean thinks, smiling and hoisting himself up on the table to lean across it and kiss Cas, who smiles back at him both surprised and delighted for it. Then sits down again, winks in answer to the affection on Cas' face, and continues with his meal.


	7. Car show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"What's this?"

Dean looks at the carefully folded paper pressed into his thigh then back up to Cas' face, catching his smile.

"I thought," Cas begins to say, nodding at the piece of paper, "since this car show is for two days, it would be good to stay somewhere a little… better, than our usual motels."

Dean folds the paper open to find it's a reservation for a hotel that is small, but far fancier than anything they've stayed in together aside from the one for their honeymoon. And it's about a ten-minute drive from the show they're going to according to the map in the reservation, so it's perfect.

"Thanks, Cas, that's a great idea."

"I thought it would compensate as part of our… arrangement," Cas continues, accepting Dean's kiss with a glint in his eye.

"Arrangement?"

"Yes," Cas smiles, reaching out to slot his fingers through the back of Dean's hair to keep him where he wants him. "The terms, I believe, were one car show, in exchange for one flower show."

"Oh," Dean laughs, leaning closer and crumpling the paper on his lap as he does, then creasing it further as he quickly swings around to straddle Cas' lap.

"You were so reluctant at the idea, I thought perhaps this would, uh, encourage you."

"Cas," Dean whispers, hooking his elbows over Cas' shoulders and humming as Cas slips his hands beneath his shirt. "I would've gone with you anyway."

"I know," Cas replies, pulling Dean closer. "I also thought it would be good for us to take a break."

He's got a point. It's been a tense couple of months for various reasons, their little bubble of normality bumping up against the pressures of what at times feels like their _former_ hunting life. There was the tearful goodbye to those six orange kittens; a witch they joined Sam in hunting for when news got out about a curse taking over a nearby town; the Petersons in the house to their right suffered a small kitchen fire, which meant Dean and some of their other neighbors were taking over Tupperware boxes stuffed with food for a couple of weeks, and the Petersons regularly coming to theirs to use the bathroom when their house was being repaired; and they aren't long home from a frantic drive across the country, when Sam had called around midnight a few days back to announce a demon was attempting to open a new gate to hell.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

In fact, Dean thinks, leaning down to kiss over the last of the fading bruises on Cas' jaw from it, they're both about ready for a break. The Peterson's youngest, Tessa, has taken Cas' in-depth instructions about keeping the food and water in their shed topped up for their _visitors_ , they've run down their food a little so they won't return to anything spoiled, a bag is already stuffed in the trunk waiting for them when they're ready; all they have to do now is decide what time they're setting off.

"Sounds good, Cas," Dean says, sweeping his hands higher beneath Cas' shirt and splaying them wide, as he angles his head up for a kiss.

* * *

Dean's glad they decided to come here for the full two days. They've already spent the morning admiring all the cars on display as well as checking out the various stalls displaying car memorabilia, and they've yet to see half of what there is on offer. And this afternoon there's a demonstration of monster trucks that Cas pointed out in the brochure with a curious smile, which Dean hadn't been expecting at a classic car show, but doesn't have any objections to seeing—particularly as Cas seems so interested.

They've both sat and taken pictures in the front seats of cars beautiful enough to make Baby jealous, the smell of wax and polish filling their nostrils just about everywhere they go. Cas has taken a shine to a forest green Dodge that he looks so at home in, Dean's thinking about picking up the one sitting in the bunker garage for him to work on at home; not that Cas does much driving, of course. And anyway, Cas still gets a thrill out of sharing the driving of the Impala with him on occasion, so it's really only an idle thought that maybe he'll run by him at a later date.

"Lunch," Cas announces then with a squeeze of his fingers, pointing over to a stand with hotdogs, that Dean lets himself get tugged along to.

"You enjoying this, Cas?" Dean asks as they wait, watching Cas glimpsing around him before turning back with a smile.

"I am," Cas smiles, "there are so many things to look at. So many cars; I don't know the names of most of them."

"That's what you've got me for," Dean winks, leaning in for a quick kiss even as the guy waiting to serve them is clearing his throat to hurry him up.

"I have you for many things," Cas agrees, just as Dean's about to open his mouth to order, the words freezing in his mouth as the server's eyebrow raises, and his lips fail to hide a smile.

"I—"

"We will have two. With everything," Cas announces before Dean gets the chance, apparently oblivious to the blush on Dean's cheeks. Dean clears his throat, watches Cas pay for the hotdogs then hand one to him, sighing in relief as he takes a huge bite of his that he smiles around, then looks expectantly at Dean for him to do the same.

"Looking forward to tomorrow," Dean says a moment later, nodding in a direction for them to go.

"Yes," Cas agrees, "the stunt driving should be interesting."

"Not like we've not done enough stunts of our own on hunts and stuff," Dean says quieter as they walk.

"Yes. But these stunts will be controlled. Preferably, without the drivers being pursued by werewolves, or—"

"Is that a comment about my driving?" Dean asks, pretending to be offended, glaring at Cas as he lowers his hotdog and raises an eyebrow.

"Dean," Cas sighs, stepping closer and kissing him hard, and tasting of mustard.

"Just saying—"

"And I am very much looking forward to returning to our hotel room this evening," Cas continues as he pulls back with a wink that makes Dean's stomach clench in anticipation.

"Me too, Cas," Dean agrees softly, and then nudges him to continue their walk amongst the cars.


	8. Vegetable garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I really look up soil types and growing seasons for vegetables in Kansas? Yes. Yes, I did; not that this is perfect, I'm sure!

"It's finished?"

"Yes," Cas says in relief, one hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow and leaving a stripe of dirt across his forehead in the process, belatedly taking off the glove that's marked him up to accept the glass of water Dean's holding for him.

"All of it?" Dean asks. It looks impressive either way; Cas has dedicated a huge plot of their land to making a vegetable garden, and he's been carefully working at it for months. Coming out in the cold wrapped up in gloves, scarf, and hat to _turn everything over_ and grumble at the few weeds that dared to show their faces; putting trays and trays of things _to seed_ in their back room that Dean had previously thought they could turn into a separate dining room but has since turned into part-pantry, part-store room, part-extension of Cas' garden; and making Dean sigh in exasperation under his breath (and occasionally out loud) for the trails of dirt he sometimes leaves in the house.

"All of it for today," Cas amends with a tired, though satisfied smile, distracting Dean again when he lifts his t-shirt up to wipe his face with and flashes him his tummy in the process. Dean looks because he can, and because he can't not; Cas catches him doing it and rolls his eyes, though steps forward for a kiss with a smirk.

Dean's looking forward to watching him garden later in the year; currently he's been bringing out drinks every half hour or so knowing Cas didn't want to stop, and sneaking glances at him out the window watching the stoop of Cas' back as he works, worrying about him getting cold with every layer he strips off. Dean has plans for sitting watching him with a book and beer in hand when it's warmer, and sunscreen to hand for all the times Cas forgets to reapply it—which will be always, he already knows that.

"So, in a few months' time; what're we eating?"

Cas has been insistent this vegetable garden is _his_ project, the same way cleaning the Impala is Dean's—even more so since that incident with the car wash which is sort of forever ago now, but Cas still speaks of with a haunted look about him that Dean has to repeatedly kiss off.

"Today, I planted beets, kale, lettuce, peppers, and tomato. We already have spinach and broccoli—"

"That's the stuff you've had seeding indoors for a couple weeks, right?" Dean interrupts, receiving another pleased smile for it.

"Yes," Cas agrees. "I have plans for onions, beans, corn, and tomatoes," he adds, pointing out where they'll eventually be planted in the coming months.

"Gonna have a full kitchen," Dean smiles, helping Cas to gather up the tools he's been using and returning them to the second shed he's built—smaller, though backed right up against Cas' animal shelter that's currently got a bird roosting in on one of its top shelves, and food disappearing that suggests _something_ is eating, yet no overnight guests—not that they know about, anyway.

"If you tell me which herbs will be most useful, then I will plant those as well," Cas says, closing the shed door with a small huff of satisfaction at a good few hours of work.

"You gonna have room?"

"Yes," Cas says, pointing out an area he's apparently earmarked then squeezing Dean's fingers and nodding towards the house. He even pauses to scrape the excess dirt from his boots before they go in; so apparently, he _has_ been listening.

"How 'bout some lunch?" Dean says when they step inside, the smell of the soup that's been simmering for an hour hitting as soon as they do, both of them inhaling in appreciation as they walk towards the kitchen.

"Do you think I have time for a quick shower first?" Cas asks, moving as directed when Dean dips a spoon in the soup and blows on it then holds it out for Cas to try. "Delicious."

"Yeah, you do; I can let this sit for a little longer. You want some croutons?"

"With garlic," Cas says, nodding enthusiastically, and leaning in for a kiss.

"Garlic croutons coming up. Hey, maybe you can grow us some garlic out there," Dean adds, smiling as he watches Cas walk to their laundry room, sees him throw the sweat-stained sweater and long-sleeved shirt he's been wearing in the machine, then shrug out of his t-shirt to throw that in as well.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Garlic has many medicinal benefits as well as culinary uses," Cas says in answer, turning back to look at him through the doorway of the laundry room. He smiles wickedly then, kicks off his boots, then strips the rest of his clothes off, wandering nonchalantly naked back towards him with that smile deepening, before leaning in to kiss him. "Your words were, I believe, that the laundry hamper did not empty itself."

"That's… it doesn't," Dean stutters back. Cas hums in answer looking pleased with himself then saunters away, apparently aware of Dean's eyes on him the entire time for the way he leans down to grin at him halfway up the stairs.

Dean watches after him for another couple of seconds then laughs to himself, turns back to the counter, and starts slicing up some bread for their croutons.


	9. In company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"This one?"

"No."

"This?"

" _No_ , Dean. It looks revolting."

"C'mon, Cas, it's kibble. All looks the same."

"It does not."

"Not meant to look appetizing to _us_ , Cas."

"And if it doesn't look appetizing to _us_ , Dean, how is it supposed to look appetizing to the dogs we are attempting to feed?"

"... _guys…_ "

Dean looks to the side from where he's backed Cas up against the display of dry dog food, sees Sam's eyes dart between them and an uncertain smile grow on his face, realizes just how close him and Cas are really standing, and takes a step back. Cas, because he's sneaky like that, takes the opportunity to reach out for the bag still held in Dean's fingers—that weighs a ton, by the way—and promptly turns to put it back on the shelf, exchanging it for one that's, in fairness, only a couple dollars extra, and okay, sure; the window on the bag _does_ show that the kibble inside might be something he'd be tempted to eat.

"Fine," Dean huffs, smiling at Cas' triumphant kiss before he dumps the bag in the cart and continues pushing it down the aisle.

Sam raises an eyebrow at Dean, and Dean waves a finger in dismissal before he can get a single word out.

"How many dogs are you feeding, anyway?" Sam asks as they follow Cas, stopping suddenly as he does to pick up some bird seed, then continues on his way.

"No idea. Cas says he's seen seven, but could be more. Kinda awful thinking there's that many dogs without homes out there."

"Ever think about getting one yourself?"

"Maybe," Dean says as they round the corner, and Cas points to the aisle for canned goods. "I don't know, though. If we get one of our own, is it gonna be constantly barking if there's cats and dogs in the shed? Chase 'em off so we can't feed 'em?"

Sam looks at him curiously but doesn't add anything, then the conversation turns to what they're having for dinner as they catch up with Cas.

"Do you want the diced or crushed tomatoes?" Cas asks, holding out a can of both.

"You complained about the diced ones last time," Dean points out, remembering the exact expression of disgust on his face when he'd found a tiny piece of the stalk in his meal.

Cas smiles, putting two cans of crushed tomatoes in the bottom of the cart, and keeps moving.

"You won't need to buy half this stuff soon with that vegetable garden of yours, Cas," Sam says, and Cas turns a proud smile over his shoulder. Dean had a car to fix up this morning just as Sam was arriving, so Cas had used the time he needed to finish to show Sam all the things that had changed since his last visit. Dean had caught the amused, affectionate smile on his face every time he looked up from the car, happy to leave them to it, knowing Cas would appreciate a new audience who asked different questions to _him_.

Dean goes to answer, but then a kid with an out-of-control cart comes screeching around the corner and collides with Cas' cart, knocking him backward.

"Hey. What the hell'd you think you're doing?" Dean yells as he charges forward, bringing the other cart to a juddering stop. The kid looks up at him wide-eyed as he shoves it towards him, and Dean just _glares_ until he backs away, mumbling an apology. Cas is pressed against the display with his elbow just an inch from knocking a jar to the floor, and from the dejected way he's holding his forearm when he stands upright he's hit it pretty hard.

Dean scowls after the kid for another second then crowds up to Cas, gentle fingers out and already searching for any sign of a serious problem, relieved when Cas just sighs and turns his arm a little for Dean to circle his thumb over. "You okay?"

"Yes."

"Think maybe you're gonna bruise?" There's always a bruise on him somewhere from gardening, or doing something in the animal shed, Dean thinks, wondering if this one's going to call for arnica gel when they get back home.

"I might," Cas says, and it's too hard to ignore the pout on his face. Dean lifts Cas' arm up just enough to kiss over the patch of it that's red, and keeps doing it until there's a smile on his face.

"That's better," Dean smiles back at him in reward, tangling their fingers together before reaching out for the handle of the cart again. Dean lingers his hand on Cas' ass in passing, gripping on to the side of the cart and turning back to wink, laughing at the soft blush on Cas' cheeks, then steers the cart along.

Sam's giving him that weird look again, but Dean ignores it, suddenly remembering a few things he needs for their dinner, quickly finishing their shopping in the supermarket. But he sees it repeatedly as they make their way around the other stores they need to visit. It's there in the queue at the bakery when Cas wraps his arms around him from behind and kisses his shoulder, pointing at the cake he wants and mumbling at him to get that as well as pie. It's there when Dean holds a can of paint up out of his reach that Cas is comparing the color of with another in his own hand, and Cas reaches out to tickle his stomach making him bring it back down immediately, backing away from him even as he laughs. It's there when Dean returns from using the restroom in the mall they end up in looking for a new pair of work pants Dean wanted since he put a hole in the last pair fixing a post in Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson's backyard last month; there was no soap, never mind paper towels, and Cas clucks in sympathy, heads into a Walgreens without comment then comes back out, squirting Purell on to Dean's upturned palms and kissing his cheek when he's finished.

Dean doesn't comment on the look, just nudges into Sam's side as they head back to the Impala.

Sam goes for a shower when they get home, leaving Cas and Dean to unpack their shopping, with Cas making them all sandwiches and slicing up the cake Dean secretly thinks is delicious, but still intends to keep complaining about out loud. Cas is teasing him about the store assistant who'd got flustered when he'd winked at her as she rang up their purchases, and Dean has to walk him back against the kitchen counter and pin him there, pressing kisses all over his face.

"You know I didn't mean anything by it, Cas," Dean says, his fingers already up under Cas shirt. And he doesn't; Dean's not looked at anyone like _that_ since him and Cas finally got a clue. But she'd looked nervous with a miserable-looking manager stood by her side, and Dean had gone to his automatic response of trying to cheer someone up, or lighten the mood.

"I should hope not," Cas retorts, attempting to keep his voice stern even there's a smile curving up his lips for all Dean's kisses.

"I'm yours," Dean tells him, mouthing it into Cas' neck and closing his eyes as Cas slots his fingers in his back pockets. "I'm always only ever yours."

"Yes," Cas says, turning his head a fraction to let Dean know he wants him to look up, and when he does it's to that dazzling, loving smile he turns on him sometimes, the one that leaves him standing there a little stunned.

Cas leans in then to kiss him, humming as he does and spreading one hand wide over his ass as the other sweeps back up under his shirt.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Seriously, guys? _Again_?"

Dean's disgruntled when Cas pushes him away chuckling, knowing Sam's stood a few feet from them, probably giving them the eyebrow. Sure enough, when he turns his head a fraction, he sees just that, though his eyes do dart to follow Cas' hands as he pulls Dean's shirt back down from where he's rucked it up.

Cas nudges against him, and Dean kisses his shoulder in passing, pulling his own up into a shrug for Sam.

"I'll take these through," Sam says, coming forward to gesture at the plates Cas has got ready, picking them up and beginning to walk away, only to turn back around. "Think you can keep your hands off each other for five whole minutes?"

"It does not take five minutes to get to the dining table from here," Cas points out, pausing from where he's taking cups down from a cupboard for their coffee.

"I—you know what I mean," Sam retorts, snorting with laughter as he turns away again.

"No, Sam," Dean says, pulling Cas into his side again to kiss him, "I don't know that we do."


	10. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"He's back home again."

"Who?" Cas asks as he brings Dean his coffee where he's stood by the window.

"Robert," Dean replies, ducking back behind the temporary sheer curtains they've got up as they decorate this last room of the house, and takes the mug thankfully.

"Robert Geary?"

"Yeah, the guy a couple down," Dean says, pulling the curtain back a little more and scowling as Robert rushes from the car and back into his house.

"Perhaps he forgot something," Cas suggests, briefly resting a hand on Dean's chest as he walks away, sipping at his own coffee as he returns to the wall he's been painting.

"Uh huh. Then why's this the third morning in a row that he's left for work, come back exactly three hours later in some kind of hurry, got _changed_ and disappeared then—only to show up later in his regular suit?"

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

Dean's been watching Robert for a couple of weeks now. In fact, he's been watching all the neighbors. Seriously; this is nothing like when he lived with Lisa and he kept himself to himself unless she invited him to do things with the neighbors or arranged things at hers. Here, this is his and Cas' home, and what goes on beyond their windows is often far more interesting than any of those soaps he used to watch so much with Bobby.

He's not seen Dr. Sexy in _weeks_.

"Perhaps he is playing some kind of sport during his lunch break," Cas muses, though is clearly not interested. Dean turns to scowl at his bent head.

"Oh yeah? How come he's in paint-splattered overalls then, huh? What kinda sport needs that?"

"Then what do you think he is doing?" Cas counters, looking up at him with an affectionate smile.

"I don't know, Cas," Dean sighs, looking out the window again and scowling some more for the sight of Robert rushing back out of the house with a bag in his hand, swinging the car out on to the road barely looking, then speeding away. "But I tell you; if it turns out he's cheating on Karen, I'm gonna gank the bastard—"

"You will not," Cas retorts in a huff, glaring at him.

"I didn't mean _actually_ gank—"

"Dean," Cas huffs, rising to his feet and walking slowly towards him with _that_ look that says Dean's in trouble. "Last week, I had to apologize to Greg for you glaring at him so maliciously when he parked too close to Baby when we were grocery shopping."

"Guy should learn how to park," Dean grumbles, darting his eyes away.

"And you should learn that you are not the only person in this world capable of parking and driving a car," Cas retorts. Dean flinches; Cas seems actually annoyed with him.

"I—"

"Just yesterday, Mrs. Ferguson asked if we were expecting a delivery, for the way you repeatedly kept walking out on the front yard and looking down the street."

"I never saw that car around here before, Cas," Dean says, defending himself even as he's trying to look away.

"So; a person cannot drive anywhere by mistake, or looking for somewhere, without your express permission?" Cas retorts, raising an eyebrow.

"Cas. Babe—"

"Last weekend, Jessica purposely had the twins cross the street on their bicycles; probably because the last time they cycled by, you were stood there watching them go, in case they got too close to the Impala."

"I—"

"And if you glare at Tessa's boyfriend one more time when he arrives to pick her up for a date—"

"He looks so much older than her," Dean protests, reaching out for Cas and mortified when he pulls back.

"It is not your business."

"Is if he's—"

"If we hear of anything untoward happening, then by all means; you can stare and threaten him as much as you wish. I will join you. But until then—"

"Don't be mad at me, Cas," Dean whines, finally making contact with Cas' t-shirt to tug him closer. Cas lands on him with a huff, grumbling to himself as he tucks into Dean's neck.

"I'm not _mad_."

"Sounds like you're mad."

"Our neighbors are not here for either your entertainment or your judgment," Cas reproaches.

"Tell you what though," Dean says, pressing a kiss to the back of his head, "I reckon Greg's got a new job. Saw him coming in the other day with bags full of new clothes."

"That is good."

"It is," Dean agrees, "he looked miserable as hell working at the other place. We'll have to have him over for dinner again so we can find out."

"And that has nothing to do with him brewing his own beer in his backyard," Cas says, smiling into his neck, and Dean's relieved to see that smile still there when he pulls back, the look he's giving him saying he thinks he's ridiculous.

"Might have something to do with it."

"Dean," Cas says in exasperation, then leans in for a quick kiss, before going back to painting the wall.

* * *

"Cas. You're not gonna believe it."

Cas looks up from where he's weeding his vegetable garden and raises an eyebrow. "What?"

"Come inside," Dean stage whispers, turning his eyes and waving at Cliff Peterson as he calls to him.

"Why?"

"Because," Dean insists, "I don't want anyone to overhear."

Cas looks at him as though he's holding his tongue against saying something about being interrupted, yet willingly stops work, and follows him into the house. "What is it?"

"I ran into Robert at the hardware store," Dean says, and now he's got Cas inside he's making him lunch; he's been out there for three hours straight.

"Robert," Cas repeats, "the neighbor you are insisting is having an affair."

"He's not though," Dean says with a huge smile stretching his cheeks for how pleased he is.

"A man in paint-covered overalls is not secretly having clandestine meetings during his lunch break. I am surprised," Cas says in that dry, sarcastic tone reserved for when he thinks Dean's being particularly idiotic.

"Yeah," Dean says, contrite and embarrassed even as he's raising a hand to the back of his neck to squeeze. "He's been fixing up this barn on a plot of land he's bought a couple miles from here—that he says he's gonna turn into a community garden eventually; that's why I ran into him in the hardware store."

"Okay," Cas agrees, slumping down on the stool on the other side of the kitchen counter and gratefully swallowing back the glass of juice Dean pushes towards him.

"Hands. Washed," Dean says with a flick at Cas' fingers before he can get too comfortable. Cas gives him the most petulant look possible as he stands again, and moves to do as asked.

"Happy now?" Cas says, brandishing his hands in front of him.

"Incredibly," Dean says, snatching one to press a kiss on the back of before Cas can get too far. Cas sighs, but smiles for it, returning to thankfully sinking back on to the stool.

"So. Robert."

"He's gonna propose," Dean says excitedly, remembering the eager nervousness on Robert's face as he'd told him. He'd been choosing between two types of finish and had spotted Dean, asked for his opinion, then the whole thing had come tumbling out.

"Proposing," Cas repeats, shaking his head.

"Yeah."

"In a barn that he's... fixing up."

"He is."

"To Karen."

"Who else?" Dean says, whirling back from the fridge to look at Cas in incredulity.

"Okay."

"That's what he's been doing on his lunch breaks. Coming home, getting changed, putting in whatever time he can. She doesn't suspect a thing," Dean adds, excited for Karen even if he doesn't know either of them all that well. Yet.

"That's… good," Cas says, and there's a smile on his face Dean thinks is still half-reproachful for his earlier assumptions. Dean clears his throat, bats the memory away, and continues making their sandwiches.

"Anyway. He's gonna do it in a couple weeks, but he's worried he's not gonna be finished in time. Got a lot on at work, so he might have to skip a couple breaks to get on top of that."

"I see."

"So, I said I'm gonna help," Dean continues, having already made plans to go with Robert tomorrow morning. "Can't wait to see what he's already done with the place."

Cas reaches out for the bottle of juice to top up both their glasses and smiles at Dean in exasperation.


	11. Car sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Dean."

The panic in Cas' voice has Dean's stomach clench, and his eyes dart out frantically for somewhere to pull over. Though the whimper that then follows from beside him has Dean skidding the Impala to a halt on the shoulder, giving Cas just enough time to jump out the car and run around it, retching into a ditch a little way up.

Dean sighs, squeezes the steering wheel as he waits for Cas to finish, knowing he'll not want him to come near him before then. He watches the stoop of his shoulders and decides whether Cas argues or not, they're getting him motion sickness pills, or something, the next place they can stop.

"He okay?" Sam asks from the back seat blinking himself awake at the realization they've pulled over.

"Yeah," Dean sighs, "seems like he's out of the last of his angel juice—which apparently is _long overdue_ , according to him. He was getting a little motion sickness before, but it's just got worse whenever we go anywhere that takes a few hours."

"I didn't notice last time," Sam says, and there's guilt on his face when Dean spins around to look at him.

"Yeah," Dean huffs, "'cos the stubborn bastard hid it, didn't want us to worry, or to _slow us down_."

"But he's okay though, right?" Sam asks, with even more worry in his voice.

"He's fine," Dean says, smiling. "Got us both checked over a couple months back; got this stuff for my knees that makes 'em feel like they're new ones."

Sam seems to find that funny at least, because there's a smile edging away that concern.

"Anyway, yeah; he's fine. Picture of health. Hell, doctor even made some snide comments about me wanting to _take a few pointers from my husband about looking after myself,_ " which Sam finds hysterical.

"Well—"

"Cas sat there eating the biggest cheeseburger and fries you've ever seen straight after we left the doctor's office, staring at me like a smug bastard 'cos apparently his cholesterol's _perfect_."

Sam laughs harder still, and Dean rolls his eyes, looking back to Cas stood with his head bowed forlornly, taking it as his sign to move.

"How're you doing, Cas?" he asks as he joins him, a pack of tissues wedged in his back pocket in case he needs them, and a bottle of water that he hands over so Cas can rinse his mouth.

"I am a former angel of the lord. I used to _fly_ , Dean. On numerous planes of existence. I should not be getting _motion sickness_."

"Well, you are," Dean says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, "so we'll just… deal with it."

"I am disgusting."

"No, you're not."

"Then I am a child," Cas grumbles.

"For getting sick in the car? No, man; tons of people get carsick."

"It is not as common for adults to suffer from motion sickness—"

"That's bull and you know it," Dean says even as he leans in to kiss him on the cheek. Cas grumbles some more, but lets Dean wrap him up in his arms and sighs as he rubs a soothing hand over his back.

"Gum?"

"Right here, Cas," Dean says, pulling the pack from another pocket to hand it over and watching him shove a piece in his mouth then chew in thought. "We're gonna stop next chance we get, okay?"

"You're going to insist I take _medication_ ," Cas sighs petulantly, and Dean has to hide his smile.

"I am. Perks of being your husband; I get to tell you what to do when you're being too stubborn to take care of yourself."

Cas raises his head to look at him ruefully, then slots their hands together, and gestures back towards the car.


	12. Rink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this," Dean protests, even as he's making his way on to the rink. The skates they've just hired are digging into his ankle, and no amount of tying the laces feels like they're  _secure_ enough.

"You told me you wanted to try a new form of exercise at the doctor's suggestion," Cas counters as he crowds up behind him, clinging hard to his waist, and dropping a kiss on the back of his shoulder.

"Yeah," Dean huffs as he steps on to the ice, reaching immediately for the wall running around its edge, asking himself if this wall is called the _boards_ , the  _rail_ , or something else altogether. "I kinda meant I'd try some kinda cross-trainer thing at home, or something. Maybe get a treadmill, so we can watch TV while we're—"

"This is better," Cas insists, wobbling as he too steps on to the ice. He's gripping so hard to the side that Dean's sure his hands would be knuckle white if he could see through his gloves.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," Cas insists. "I'm sure you would find a way to justify eating  _pie_ at the same time as using the treadmill  _and_ watching something."

Dean opens his mouth to retort, but doesn't, already thinking of a wedge of pie balanced on a treadmill console, and from Cas' knowing expression, it's written all over his face.

"You're good?" Dean asks, clearing his throat and smiling.

"Dean?"

"I meant, are you okay to let go?" Dean amends, and he's half-expecting to hear a rant about how Cas is a former angel of the lord, and something as insignificant as frozen precipitation is hardly anything to be afraid of. But then there's a look of sheer delight on Cas' face as he straightens himself up, and releases one of his hands from the wall, holding it out for Dean to hold.

"I mean, I'm gonna hold you up, but it's years since I've done this," Dean says, stumbling as his feet remind themselves of how to skate.

"I trust you," Cas smiles back at him, grinning harder when he almost slips, and pushes forward tentatively so they can begin to make their way around the ice.

It takes them a couple of laps, but Cas is a natural, only holding on to the ends of Dean's fingers for the last of those initial laps, and then pushing forward in determination, a jubilant burst of laughter leaving Dean smiling at the back of his head as Cas skates off without him. And as they're growing in confidence, they move further away from the edge, slowing to hold hands as they go around together, almost tumbling to the ice when a boy darts between them and nearly topples Dean in the process.

"This was a good idea, Cas," Dean says breathlessly a little later when they agree to stop.

"It was," Cas agrees, leaning in to kiss him, his fingers out to grip on to Dean' sides as he almost slips in a small pool of water where they've stepped off the ice. "Though, perhaps we should eat something."

Dean looks in the direction Cas is nodding and is sure he can already taste cheap hotdogs and weak soda, and his stomach rumbles for it. "Sure, Cas. Let's eat," and together they wobble towards the cafe on their blades, precariously wedged either side of a table watching others still skating.

"Are you ready to go back?" Cas asks, eagerness in his expression that suggests he's got at least another hour in him.

Dean's calves are beginning to cramp, and his shins are aching, but for the look on Cas' face and the pleasant way his own heart's pounding, Dean knows if Cas asks, they'll be coming back to this rink again.


	13. Bike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Cas is either gonna love this idea, or maybe think Dean is out of his mind. But as Dean steps into the Ferguson's garage and his eyes fall on the bike that's going to be his latest project, Dean thinks it's going to be fun either way, and can't wait to get started.

It's unbelievable really, how he's even got an opportunity like this. Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson are retired, usually spending their winter months in far nicer climates, and when they're at home they're the homely kind of neighbors everybody wants around. Kids up and down the streets surrounding them are always dropping in for candy and cake that seems to be never-ending, and they're never short of volunteers for mowing their lawn as a consequence.

A couple of weeks ago, Dean had not long pulled in from picking up groceries, when he'd turned to find Mr. Ferguson flat out on the sidewalk on his back. Dean had raced across leaving the car trunk open to help him, finding Mr. Ferguson in a fit of giggles, laughing so hard he was wiping his eyes.

"She'll yell at me something awful if she catches me," he'd hissed when Dean had sat him upright, and it was then that he'd noticed the roller skates. "I used to be rink champion," he added, then went on to tell Dean that it had been at a roller rink where he'd met Mrs. Ferguson when they were sixteen and that they'd been together ever since.

Dean's a sucker for a good story, so as he'd helped Mr. Ferguson to his feet, he'd listened as he'd walked beside him and followed him through to their garage, to tales of his various roller skating accomplishments, his eyes falling belatedly on the bike.

"1967 Honda CB750," Mr. Ferguson had announced proudly, with a wistful pat on the seat as they'd made their way for him to sit down. And Dean had listened to his tales about the bike's history as Mr. Ferguson had changed into his regular shoes, while admiring the decent condition of the beneath a clear tarpaulin even as it stood untouched.

"But you'll not be interested in a thing like this with that beautiful car of yours," Mr. Ferguson had said, and the conversation had turned to the Impala, as well as the cars around the neighborhood he'd noticed Dean fixing up.

"What about Casper?" he'd said then, leaving Dean shaking his head in confusion, realizing belatedly that he'd meant _Cas_. And even at the time, Dean had stored it up as an anecdote to tell Cas when he got home—as well as to point out he wasn't the only neighbor who knew everyone else's business in the street.

Somehow, and Dean's not even quite sure how they agreed to it, Mr. Ferguson had offered him the bike in exchange for a few things that needed mending around the house. He's done most of them already, so now he's making plans for fixing up this bike as a surprise for Cas, reasoning to himself it might feel a bit like flying for him since he can't do that anymore.

His plan is to fix the bike up when Cas is working at the library—or gardening for another elderly neighbor a few streets over, since word has apparently got out about his green fingers. Dean runs his hands over the seat making a mental checklist of all the things he thinks he'll need, shaking his head again in disbelief that the Fergusons would be so laid back about him coming and going as he pleases, and practically gifting him this bike. Though the shuffle behind him says he's not going to be alone as he fixes it.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Did I tell you about the time we hopped on this thing and drove up to and along the coast?" Mr. Ferguson asks as he comes in with a tray of sandwiches and what looks like tea, talking as though he and Dean were already in the middle of a conversation.

"No, I don't think you did," Dean smiles, accepting a sandwich after pulling out a fold up table for Mr. Ferguson to put the tray on as he sinks into a comfortable chair, and begins to tell his story as he watches Dean work.


	14. Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

He's a lucky bastard, Dean thinks as he watches Cas walk down the stairs towards him, the candlelight that's flickering on every surface imaginable making Cas seem ethereal as he moves. There's not a voice in Dean's head that could mock him for what he's thinking as he takes in the sight of his _husband_ , stunning in a new blue three-piece suit, Cas in a waistcoat over a crisp white shirt _doing_ things to Dean without him even having to say a word.

"Dean," Cas says, smiling as his own eyes linger over Dean, nothing but appreciation there as he takes in Dean's own clothes, coming to a stop just a foot in front of him.

"You're perfect," Dean whispers, and Cas smiles for it, closing the gap between them for a soft kiss that they both have difficulty breaking away from.

"You are everything," Cas replies, and there he goes again, Dean thinks; saying things far grander than he can ever get out of his own mouth.

"You ready for dinner, Cas?" Dean asks, taking him by the hand and gently tugging him towards the table he's laid out as good as any fancy restaurant. There are fairy lights to add brightness where the candles can't reach, flute glasses next to a bottle of champagne on ice, and cutlery set out for the three-course meal he's been slaving over for most of the afternoon.

"Dean, this is beautiful," Cas says in awe, and it's the final confirmation Dean needs to say their decision to stay home for this Valentine's, not go out to some overpriced, overbooked restaurant, was the best one they could have made. They have each other and they're in their home; there is literally nowhere else on this Earth that Dean would want to be.

"Worth it," Dean says, squeezing his fingers, and about to pull Cas' chair out for him before Cas is gently nudging him back and kissing him, then shaking his head with a smile.

"I have something for you," Cas says, and Dean's heart flutters in guilt.

"Cas, we didn't say anything about gifts," Dean protests, even if they have apparently tried to outdo each other with overly elaborate cards.

"Dean. This meal, this evening; this is your gift to me."

"It's for _us_ , Cas—"

"Yet you are the one that prepared the food, decorated our home; I wanted to give you something," Cas smiles back at him, reaching once more to take his hand.

"Okay, Cas," Dean says, already knowing he's gonna love whatever Cas has got for him, just for the gesture of it more than anything else. He lets Cas lead him over to the couch where he sits and promises to close his eyes, then listens, intrigued, as Cas leaves him. Seconds later he hears him muttering to himself, an occasional curse that suggests he's carrying something heavy, and then there's more muttering as he's apparently attaching something to something else, finally clueing Dean in to something electrical when he hears a plug shoved in a socket.

"Okay," Cas says, announcing quicker than Dean expected that he's back in front of him, and takes his hand, though is still blocking his view. Dean lets himself be led with his eyes closed, glad everything he's cooked is just keeping warm instead of needing anything finishing, then feels Cas' hands on his waist, bringing him to a stop.

"Cas—"

"Of course, you are much better at this than I am, so I am sure you will want to set this up correctly once you are sure where you want it," Cas says, squeezing his waist to let him know he can open his eyes.

On a low table they've yet to decide what to do with now sits a pristine condition vintage vinyl player, complete with matching speakers that Cas has set up either side. There's a couple of vinyls slotted in the gap between the left speaker and the player that Dean would recognize anywhere as Zeppelin, and Cas bends to lift them up to push into Dean's hands.

"You told me that there are songs on this album that it is criminal we are yet to make out to," Cas explains, smiling at him. "I thought perhaps the same applied to dancing to them, which would be perfect for tonight."

Dean is speechless. His eyes are stuck for what to look at first, but then the only thing he wants to look at is Cas.

"Is this okay?" Cas asks, and Dean leans in to kiss him, sighing there as he leans their foreheads together before pulling back.

"It's perfect. How the hell did you get this home without me seeing?" Dean asks, turning the vinyls over to read the back of the sleeves.

"Our neighbor. Greg," Cas smiles. "I was early to the library and noticed this vinyl player in the window of a store. Greg was passing at the time and said he'd happily store it at his until today so you wouldn't see it."

Dean smiles at that, and has to lean in for another kiss. "And these?" he says, holding up the vinyls.

"Those I purchased online. I received some excellent recommendations on Tumblr," Cas tells him, and Dean's just so happy to be living the life he's living right now that he beams at him, and wraps Cas up in his arms, whispering _thank you_ repeatedly as he presses kisses behind his ear.

Dinner is perfect, something they can take their time over, reminiscing about their history as well as planning things for their future. The champagne makes them both a little giggly, and Dean's usual need to clean the dishes just as soon as they're done eating is abandoned for the chance to turn Cas in his arms to the vinyl spinning on his new vinyl player, lit by candlelight on this most perfect of Valentine's.


	15. Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, this is the longest one, and possibly the saddest, but it's not sad because of Dean and Cas, and has a happy ending x

"Thankfully whoever it was, I startled them. But they snatched my purse right off the table; had to cancel my cards and everything."

Dean's jaw clenches as he accepts the cup of coffee pushed in front of him by Karen, as Robert slides two deep wedges of pie in front of him and Cas. "Did they get much?"

"No," Karen sighs, absently playing with her engagement ring; the proposal was a couple of months ago now, and the pair of them have still got that _just engaged_ glow about them. "No, I was lucky. There was maybe twenty dollars in coins in the bottom; I was just about to transfer everything over to a new wallet."

"This is the third one this week," Robert adds, and Dean makes a mental note to check in on Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson, make sure their house is good and secure.

"This is… unusual," Cas says, though it's more of a question. Dean squeezes his hand beneath the table in reassurance.

"It is," Dean says, with a quick glance at all of them. "Spoke to a few people around here; say there's not been a burglary in this neighborhood in about eight years."

"I don't really want us to have to start some whole neighborhood watch thing," Robert says, frowning at the thought.

"No, we don't want that; can you imagine the Mackeys if we try organizing anything?" Dean replies, and Karen and Robert groan in unison at the thought of the busybody couple who think they need to know everyone's business, who would likely demand they run the whole thing.

"Did you see what he was wearing at the farmer's market last weekend?" Robert adds in a conspiratorial whisper.

"Practically lederhosen," Dean scoffs back. Cas clears his throat, looks at Dean pointedly when he has his attention, before returning stiffly to his coffee, then reaches for his pie to take a bite.

Dean braces for a lecture on _gossiping_ when he gets home, carefully extracting his hand from Cas' leg.

"Anyway," Karen says, looking between Dean and Cas in amusement, "I just hope whoever's doing this stops."

"Sounds like someone's watching the place to see who's home or not," Robert adds, with a pinched grimace.

"Guess we'll all just have to keep an eye out," Dean agrees, and their conversation turns to other things.

* * *

Cas is giving him the silent treatment for _saying unkind things_ , and Dean's feeling pretty bad about it; bad enough to be sulking out in the Impala under the pretense of _checking things over_ , when he sees someone in the rearview who he doesn't recognize. He turns quickly but doesn't catch enough about them to remember them with later, then spends a few minutes just staring, wondering about their new neighborhood thief.

Deciding on a walk after casting a longing look at the house he's made himself temporarily unwelcome in, Dean waves at Tessa Peterson as she runs up the steps to her house, then walks along, looking over Robert and Karen's house for signs of entry by the thief as he passes, and makes his way to the other two houses who also were robbed.

Dean thinks whoever the thief is must be trying doors at random, with nothing obvious about any of the properties standing out that says _rob me_. But he still looks at new faces in suspicion every time he passes one, and by the time he arrives home he's convinced himself it's got to be someone down on their luck, or in trouble, having a sense about the area they're living in and the people he's got to know.

Cas doesn't look at him when he walks in and Dean's stomach sinks again, but he watches as Cas gets up from the couch without ceremony and walks across to the kitchen, coming back with a beer that he pushes into his hands.

"I don't like unkindness," Cas says, though is telling Dean's chest rather than looking at his face. Dean lurches forward, pressing kisses all over wherever he can get to until Cas relents and wraps his arms around his waist, finally looking up.

"I'm sorry I was _unkind_ to Mr. Mackey," Dean says.

"You were not unkind to Mr. Mackey, that is the problem; you insinuated unpleasant things about him behind his back," Cas retorts.

"Then I'm sorry I… did that."

"Because you know it was uncalled for, or because I'm angry with you for it?"

"Both," Dean says, kissing him repeatedly again until he sees the corners of Cas' mouth turn up in a smile he's trying to hide. "Both. I'm sorry, Cas."

Cas sighs hard, and put upon, but his eyes are twinkling with forgiveness, and then he's taking Dean's hand and leading him back to the couch.

* * *

There are two more houses that are robbed over the next couple of days, the thief always taking a purse or wallet and not touching anything else. It's confirmation to Dean that it's someone trying doors at random then running off without intending to take anything bigger. But he doesn't like that it's happening in his neighborhood, and feels like he needs to do something about it.

So he lays in wait, or rather, he starts paying even more attention to everyone new around him, keeping a closer eye on the properties he thinks are more likely to leave doors open, looking for evidence of discarded, emptied purses or wallets laying around. Three show up behind the recycling area Cas still goes to every day with a small amount of dog food hoping to entice that stray dog they'd first seen; Dean spots them on the way back from picking up milk when Cas insists he wants a homemade milkshake.

It's strange, Dean thinks, discreetly looking through the wallets, that only the cash has been taken. It's like the person who's taken it only ever intended to get the cash; cards, drivers' licenses, cherished photos are all still there untouched. Dean makes a plan to return them all with the cover story that he saw them trying to feed the dog.

* * *

Dean thinks he knows who the thief is. There's a scruffy-looking kid in need of a haircut he's seen on several occasions that he knows lives on the farthest street away from theirs. He's seen him looking longingly through the window in their small grocery store, is forever carrying a satchel that he supposes must contain school books or something, and never seems to have a parent around.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

The boy can't be any older than fifteen, and there's always such a haunted look about him that Dean starts wondering how many nights of sleep he's losing at the thought of all the money he's taken if it's really him doing it, though even that only amounts to a little over three hundred dollars. When he points him out to Cas, Cas nods grimly, saying that he recognizes him.

"He sometimes comes to the library. Some days I get the impression that he is only in there to keep warm," Cas adds, and the thought makes Dean's heart break for the kid, even if he is a thief.

"Well, is there ever anyone with him?" Dean asks, sighing when Cas shakes his head.

"Maybe we should try talking to him."

"Yeah, maybe," Dean agrees, wondering how they'd even broach the subject. But a couple of days later he gets a call from Cas, who's at the library, telling him the boy has just arrived.

Dean spins the Impala out from their drive and pulls up at the library less than fifteen minutes later. He winks at Cas as he passes him reading to a group of mesmerized kids, following his discreet nod towards the back.

The boy is there, hunched over at a table and furiously writing something; Dean gets close enough to see he's got a geography textbook open and decides he must be doing homework.

"You know," Dean says, hating how jumpy the kid is when he starts speaking to him, "me and my brother Sammy used to spend hours in the library studying when we were kids."

The kid blinks up at him wide-eyed, his pen coming to a stop on the page.

"Who'm I kidding," Dean says then with a rueful laugh to himself. "It was Sam who was studying; I was just keeping him company, making sure he wasn't getting into any trouble. Keeping warm," Dean adds, taking in the layers the boy is wearing and seeing nothing but holey clothes in need of laundering.

The boy blinks back at him again, but says nothing.

"Hey, do you know a Tessa? Tessa Peterson?" he asks on a whim, and it's a good one, because the boy freezes for a second, then nods.

"Goes to my school."

"Yeah, thought she might," Dean smiles, as friendly as he can make it. "She's a neighbor of ours. Figured you two might be a similar age."

The boy nods again, and Dean doesn't know if he's sensing a trap, or he's just wondering why there's this stranger making conversation with him.

"I hear she's doing pretty good in school," Dean adds, starting to run out of words. The boy shrugs, his eyes darting back to his book as though he too would like to be doing well in school, if he could be left alone to work.

"Excuse me,"

Both Dean and the boy startle as Cas appears out of nowhere, brandishing a sandwich and a can of soda.

"I apologize," Cas says, humble as anything as he leaves the sandwich and drink on the corner of the desk. "We had leftovers from the group listening to my story. I saw you studying, and thought you might be hungry."

The boy's stomach rumbles, and Dean's heart breaks again, watching him swallow with clear want for the sandwich but too scared to reach out.

"You can't—you can't eat in the library," the boys says in a loud whisper, and Dean's heart breaks once more.

"No," Cas agrees with a warm smile, "though there is nothing stopping you taking a break from studying. Or eating it later."

Apparently _later_ is too far away, because the boy's stomach rumbles loudly in protest. He looks between Dean and Cas repeatedly, then starts stuffing his books back into his bag, before snatching up the sandwich and drink.

"Thank you," he stutters out before practically running away from them, leaving Dean and Cas to watch after him before they can say a word.

"He looks so hungry," Cas sighs, looking crestfallen. Dean pulls him into his arms and kisses the side of his head.

* * *

The same thing happens for three weeks, and Cas begins to take larger and larger sandwiches, as wells as chips and pieces of fruit, with the same excuse that they're nothing but leftovers. He learns the boy's name is Josh, and when Dean sees Josh near the grocery store his eyes first widen in recognition then dart away as though he's been caught doing something wrong, without even setting foot in the store.

Dean feels skeevy about it, but decides to take a look around, wants to work out exactly which house it is Josh lives in, try to figure out why his gut is telling him that Josh is the thief, but also needs help. He idles the Impala watching him turn the corner of a street, works out which house is his, then gets out to take a walk.

He's expecting horrible things, but holds back when he sees a man struggling taking out the trash, turning when he sees Josh. The man can't be much older than Dean is himself, and his smile for Josh is a warm, pleased one, carefully wrapping his arms around him in greeting, before together they walk inside. Dean makes a note of the house number then makes his way home, grabbing the laptop from Cas and kissing him in apology as he begins to research.

"Josh and Simon Bilby," Dean announces even though Cas hasn't asked, though tucks into his side and watches him type. "Looks like mom died a few years ago, so it's just them two. Simon's ex-army. Says here he got discharged on medical grounds."

"What for?" Cas asks, and Dean continues searching using all the back doors and tricks he's always used for hunting.

"Landmine," Dean says, grimacing. "Says here he got hit with a ton of shrapnel. Got PTSD, migraines, the whole works. Seemed to be doing okay. Got a good job in security—"

"Then why is his son potentially stealing cash?" Cas says.

"I mean, I don't have _proof_ it's him."

"Dean," Cas says, nuzzling against him, "your instinct has served you well over the years."

"So what do we do? Can't just barge in there asking questions when it's none of our business."

"I don't know," Cas says, sighing and tucking in closer.

* * *

"His father is currently off sick with migraines."

Cas comes charging into the house startling Dean as he's reading a book, nudging for Dean to lift his head so he can lay it in Cas' lap.

"Who?"

"Josh," Cas says, leaning down to kiss him. "I just spoke to Tessa."

"Oh?"

"Josh Bilby is in her year. In her math class. She says the company Josh's father works for doesn't pay sick pay, and because his migraines are so terrible, he hasn't worked in a few months. There is a problem with his health insurance and the medication he needs for the migraines."

"Why does Tessa know that?" Dean asks, leaning over to put his book on the table.

"Because," Cas says, smiling, "sometimes, Dean, people talk to other people. I believe it's called _making friends_."

Dean huffs in complaint, turning over quickly to pin Cas beneath him, and tickles him mercilessly until he's laughing and begging to be let up.

"You were saying?"

"Only that," Cas, panting as he gets his breath back. "That the reason that Josh might be our thief is because his father is having difficulty working."

"No one's been burgled in weeks," Dean says, though that doesn't really change anything. Josh still looks pale when he sees him in the library and eats the food Cas gives him like he hasn't eaten in hours.

"Perhaps Josh has been stealing money so they can eat," Cas muses, and Dean closes his eyes, telling the memory he has of the same experience that it isn't welcome.

"And if dad's been sick with migraines, maybe he's too out of it to notice all that much of what's going on," Dean adds, torn been sympathy and anger for the man.

"I will be back soon," Cas announces then, getting to his feet.

"What?" Dean splutters. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to Mr. Mackey."

"Why?"

"Because," Cas says, stretching; purposely, Dean thinks, for the way he smiles when he catches him eyeing the flash of skin as his shirt rides up. "Mr. Mackey is an insurance broker. Perhaps he can give Simon Bilby advice about his policy."

"I—"

"Perhaps he can give the advice while wearing the _lederhosen_ you so admire," Cas adds with a shrewdly raised eyebrow. "It would be much quicker if you drove me there."

Dean's up in a second, failing to point out that the Mackeys live just two streets away.

* * *

"Hey, Josh."

Josh turns at the sound of Dean's voice and gives him a shy smile before waving and following Tessa into her house.

"He looks well," Cas says as he passes, and Dean goes back to helping Cas unload bags of pet food to take through to their shed.

"He does."

"I hear that his father has gone back to work," Cas adds in a loud, conspiratorial whisper.

"Oh yeah?" Dean huffs, just about holding back a comment on Cas being just as much a gossip as he is.

"Yes," Cas says, huffing as he hoists a bag of cat kibble up on his hip, as Dean flips back the lid of the tub it's stored in for him to pour in.

"So? Spill."

"There is nothing to _spill_ ," Cas retorts, carefully folding the bag away before he does the same with the other bags. "When I spoke with Josh in the library yesterday, he said that his father was working, and that he wanted to get all his homework done before going home. They were having a _boys night_. Josh said that his father is taking a new medication for his migraines, and that his appetite has returned; Josh has been doing most of the cooking for the past couple of months and doesn't think his father likes his cooking, though I'm sure it was just the migraines making him… ill. They were planning on making burgers and marathoning Star Wars for the rest of the weekend."

"Maybe explains why dad's been oblivious to a lack of food in the house," Dean replies.

"I get the impression Josh has been doing his best to ensure his father is eating, often going without himself."

Dean closes his eyes, tells them they are _not_ stinging, forces breath from his lungs, then opens his eyes again. "Anyway. Star Wars. Sounds like a good weekend to me,"

"Yes, I thought you would think that," Cas smiles.

"What's not to love?"

"If you are willing to make burgers, I am willing to watch… _one_. But no more."

"Why?" Dean says as they step back outside, laughing as Cas reaches out to squeeze him into his side. "And do you mean, Episode One? One movie? _Four_? Which is really the first one, but we don't _say_ it like that—"

"One. Of your choosing," Cas smiles, holding the door open for him as they go into the house.

"Why only one?" Dean protests.

"Because. You will want to watch the director's cut."

"We only _have_ the director's cut—"

"With all the behind the scenes commentary," Cas adds, with Dean following him up the stairs.

"...who doesn't love all that stuff?" Dean protests again, leaning in the doorway of their bedroom as Cas goes in.

Cas laughs but doesn't say anything, only walks over to the larger of their shared closets, and pulls down a box full of, well. _Things_. He leaves it at the foot of the bed and looks back at Dean with intent.

"Uh…"

"Technically, there are one or two things in here that we can _use_ while we are watching," Cas adds, his eyes crinkling with mirth as Dean swallows hard. "Even while you are cooking."

"We can… we can forget the burgers if you want," Dean stutters out, pushing away from the door frame.

"No, we cannot. I'm _hungry_ ," Cas insists, lightly shoving him backward. "Either, we can work up an appetite _now_ —more of an appetite—or, we can eat first. Watch your movie. Do _that_ later."

Dean watches him walk away and make his way down the stairs. Looks back at the box on the bed, darts across the room to retrieve it, and follows him down.


	16. Flower Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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Dean desperately tries to move his leg discreetly enough for Cas not to notice his fidgeting, kicking out with a little too much force into the aisle. Cas smiles, reaches out and squeezes his hand against his leg.

"It is nearly finished."

Dean nods, tries to pay attention to the seminar on _designing a pollinator garden_ , though can't resist sneaking peeks at Cas for the concentration on his face. He's even making _notes_ : as well as their own place, Cas has now helped plan gardens and backyards for six of their neighbors. Apparently, new ideas for attracting _bees_ is next on his list of things to incorporate.

"That was very interesting," Cas announces once they leave, and Dean's shaking out his leg knowing it's going to cramp anyway.

"Yeah? You got some good stuff you can use?" Dean asks, taking Cas' hand as he points the direction he wants them to go.

"Yes," Cas says, checking the schedule on the wall to see where they're heading next, then tugs Dean along with apparently never-ending enthusiasm.

There are twenty-three feature gardens for them to look at, and they've only seen about five. So it's good that they're here for both of the days the flower show is on. Besides, it gives Dean the chance to return the gesture of a hotel that Cas did for him when they went to that car show.

Dean's learned a thing or two about gardening, though only because of Cas. He knows the brands he likes, the tools he won't even look at, even knows the difference between weeds and shoots now so he doesn't make the mistake of _trying to help_ and pulling up the wrong thing. Which he's done a total of once, and felt so guilty about he couldn't sleep.

"Look at this," Cas enthuses, and Dean does as asked, watching the tumble of water through a really clever feature that leaves him contemplating setting one up for Cas; with recycled water, of course.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

There are things called _tablescapes_ , a butterfly garden that Cas is so enthralled by they stand watching the fluttering insects for almost half an hour. And Dean knows the Impala will be weighed down with whatever Cas wants to buy, seeing his eyes drawn to the exhibition halls and marketplace area.

Cas is clearly having a great time, Dean smiles, standing to the side watching him in deep conversation with two women discussing different methods of planting. He takes a sample of the offered chocolate cake that's being demo'ed and snags another before the person holding the tray out can get too far. They haven't eaten all that much because of the time of the seminar they went to, and the sugar on his tongue makes Dean's stomach growl with a reminder that it's long past lunchtime.

"Dean," Cas says when he's finished speaking, leaning in to kiss him with a huge smile on his face, tangling their fingers together and once again tugging him along. Dean laughs and follows easily, loving seeing Cas so much in his element. And all the more when they come to a stop at a pizza stall.

"There are fourteen cooking demonstrations here this weekend," Cas explains, nodding towards the person chopping herbs with finesse. "I thought we could visit them all."

"Cooking demos at a flower show?" Dean says, though is already reaching out for a finger of pizza, and passing one to Cas.

"Of course," Cas says, nudging against him. "The vegetables and herbs used here are all fresh. And there is an herb garden I want to show you to compare with ours."

Dean swallows his pizza and waits for Cas to do the same then leans in to kiss him. "Sounds good, Cas."


	17. Eggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"Cas, these are _perfect_."

Dean watches Cas beam with shy pride as he pushes the last of the plastic eggs filled with mini chocolate eggs into place in their local park, and sits back on his heels with a satisfied sigh.

"I hope they enjoy it," Cas says, his eyes sweeping up over the stretch of grass—a huge area taped off next to the playground for the kids to enjoy an Easter egg hunt—where he's hidden who knows how many of these brightly-colored plastic eggs behind flowers, rocks, and anything that might look interesting to a child.

"Thank you for taking so much time to do all of this," the park warden Tabetha says, with a look of true relief in her eyes; probably that she didn't have to do any of the work herself.

"I have to share the thanks with Dean," Cas says, nudging into Dean's side when he stands. They spent most of yesterday afternoon filling plastic eggs, pre-threaded with pipe cleaners, with milk chocolate eggs covered in pink, green, and blue foil. The chocolate eggs had come in giant catering bags donated by a local wholesaler for the hunt, and Dean's sick of the sight of them; probably because he sampled quite a few as they were working.

"Then thanks to you both; I can't wait to see all their faces," Tabetha says with a smile for each of them before she's apologizing, and getting ready to let the kids in.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"You ever been on a swing before, Cas?" Dean says as he watches the crowd of small children forming, leaving the playground deserted, and the swings in question free.

"I have not," Cas replies, his eyes following Dean's, and together they head towards them, settling awkwardly on the not-quite-big-enough seats.

They watch as the ribbon is cut to let the kids into the Easter egg hunt, excited squeals and swinging baskets blurring by them as they seek the eggs out. Cas' face is lit up with delight, and Dean can't help but be drawn to watch his expression more than he is watching the kids. He's hit with a pang of missing out for a second, imagining Cas planning an Easter egg hunt in their own home for their own child. But when two just beyond the small fence they're looking over start hollering and screaming about stolen eggs from baskets, Dean thinks perhaps this is just as good—for now, at least.

Josh walks by them then giving a nervous wave, that both Cas and Dean return. He's looking healthier than ever, no dark circles under his eyes, and obviously having plenty to eat. Those houses near theirs with money stolen from them have all mentioned the exact amount of money reappearing out of nowhere; Dean's noticed Josh admiring the Impala on his paper round for the past month, and assumes that must be his doing.

"I think he would like to ask you about car maintenance; or at least the Impala," Cas whispers loudly when Josh has turned away.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes," Cas says with a smile. "The last time I saw him in the library, he was looking through several books about car engines. Specifically, Chevy's."

"I'll see if he's interested when he's passing next," Dean replies, finding another reason to be proud of the boy.

"He is spending a _lot_ of time with Tessa," Cas adds, leaning into Dean's side as he says it.

"Yeah. Better than the last guy," Dean huffs, remembering the older boy who looked far too sure of himself to be good enough for their neighbor's daughter.

"If Claire ever gets a boyfriend or girlfriend, I am sure we will be the last to know," Cas says then, smiling hard as though that's really funny to him.

"Why?" Dean demands, already furious at an imaginary doofus that he needs to pin against the Impala for a lecture on how to treat Claire.

Cas gives him a look that suggests he knows exactly what he's thinking, and Dean rolls his eyes, but silently agrees that he gets Cas' point. But then a tiny girl in a pair of huge golden angel wings almost bigger than she is comes toddling towards them; Dean recognizes her as one of the regulars for Cas' book reading at the library.

"One," she says sternly as she raises her half-full egg basket up on to Cas' lap, allowing him to choose one of her eggs before she does the same with Dean.

"Thank you, Sasha," Cas says, even as she raises her arms and aggressively wiggles for him to lift her up on to his lap.

"Not Sasha. _Rey_ ," the girl insists quite adamantly, thrusting the basket at Dean to hold on to so that it's in reach as she starts working through her eggs.

"Rey," Cas corrects immediately, rolling his eyes, but smiling as he does it. "Why am I surrounded by Star Wars fans?"

"Jedis," _Rey_ declares. Dean beams at him over the top of her head and goes back to watching the rest of the kids enjoying their Easter Egg hunt on this perfect sunny afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [These](https://www.makeandtakes.com/easter-egg-flower-bouquet) look so cute!


	18. Geeking out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter and the next follow on from one another (...duh...) as in they can sort of be tied together. And since this is fanfic, people who are wrongly no longer with us can magically appear... (and also... remember, these are only snapshots, not full stories)

Literally, Dean doesn't know where to start. There is fanart everywhere, the exhibition hall stuffed with merchandise, and so many panels he wants to see that he's stood struck dumb with the program clenched tight in his fingers, in the middle of a lobby teeming with people wearing shirts emblazoned with the names of their favorite shows, and a huge amount of cosplay.

Cas is patiently stood by his side taking it all in with interest, even smiling in recognition of some of the cosplay characters passing, nudging at Dean with an excited instruction to _look_. But after he's looked his fill, apparently he realizes that Dean's not moving, because he leans in, kisses him on the cheek, then plucks the program from his hand.

"You said you _absolutely had to_ see this, this, and this panel," Cas says calmly, opening up the program and pointing to the things Dean's highlighted.

"Yeah."

"This one, if you want to get good seats, we will need to be there early."

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Yeah, we will, Cas," Dean agrees, still totally overawed. He's never been to Comic Con before, not anything of this magnitude anyway, so when Cas announced that this was his birthday present, Dean had thought he was making a joke. But Cas had brandished the badges he'd purchased, really good ones, which means they get to go just about everywhere for the entire duration of the Con. Dean had no idea that the _gardening projects_ Cas has been doing around their neighborhood and at a couple of places on the other side of town would be so lucrative, but apparently, they are.

"Come with me," Cas says, slotting his fingers through Dean's, and Cas leads him along to the main exhibition hall mumbling about how much they can see now, when they'll have to leave for their first panel, suggesting somewhere to have lunch because _breaks are important, Dean_ , and generally guiding Dean through the experience when his brain's too excited to plan a single thing.

Cas is awesome. Dean knows this anyway, thinks it on a regular basis, but to see the confident way he navigates them around without them missing a single thing they want to see is kind of astonishing. Dean had a half-thought Cas was only doing this for him, patiently putting up with his _interests_ as a sign of just how much he loves him. But every time he catches Cas' eyes he looks like he's having the time of his life.

They speak to other fans, nudge into each other's sides when actors they recognize are anywhere in sight, shriek but then avoid eye contact with each other when trailers for a couple of their favorite shows are played at the panels. Their hotel is decent, full of other attendees so that the entire event feels like one long, non-stop celebration of geek, that Dean's loving every second of. The only thing that takes the smile from his face occasionally is the thought of how much fun this would have been with Charlie in tow.

But aside from that blip, it's everything Dean could want, every bit of fun he's suspected a Comic Con might be. And if there is guilt to be felt about maxing out one of the credit cards supposed to be earmarked for _hunting_ purchases then it can hit later, when they're home and surrounded by all this _stuff_ he's loading into the car.

In fact, he doesn't want to leave, despite how long they've been here, and despite how very long the drive seems home. He's just about to slam the trunk door closed and lean back against the Impala to take one last look around when Cas comes and presses into his side with a loud, urgent, _Dean_.

Dean turns in the direction he's looking, eyes sweeping over a redhead and immediately thinking of Charlie as he so often does. But this one's got his attention; she's come to a stop and is staring back at him just as hard, her mouth suspended open as though she doesn't know what's supposed to come out. Her arms are laden with as many purchases as Dean's just shoved in the car, and the two people with her are trying to get her to follow, but she's not budging.

Dean's heart is racing for the impossible to be happening, shaking his head in disbelief, the anchor of Cas' hand through his the only thing that's not making his knees crumple beneath him. He tells himself it isn't real, it can't be; he'd held her dead body in his arms and has grieved for her ever since, often waking with a gasp to the image of her in that bathtub etched firmly in the backs of his eyes.

She's still staring back at him. Shoving the things in her hands into the arms of the two people either side of her, nudging at one of their shoulders, and, Dean thinks, telling them she'll catch them up. Dean's heart skips again, and he's swallowing back tears, growling at himself for being stupid, for wanting too _much_. But then this doppelganger of the woman he'd come to think of as one of his closest friends—even maybe a _sister_ —is slowly raising her hand into a Vulcan salute, and those tears just come falling.

" _Charlie?_ "

 


	19. LARPing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"How does this look?" Cas asks, adjusting the tunic he's wearing and looking doubtfully at the sword down by his side.

" _Hot_ ," Dean assures him, leaning in for a kiss even as he's smoothing down the front of his own costume, pulling Cas into a hug as he peers over his shoulder at the crowd of people gathering around.

They're in a park about four hours from home, LARPing for the first time for Cas, and the first time for Dean since he and Sam LARPed with Charlie. She's the reason they're here, actually, and Dean's face breaks into an easy smile when she comes gleefully rushing towards them.

"Are you ready? You're ready. _Sweet_ ," she says, looking them both over in approval before she's tugging on Dean's sleeve in impatience. "Let's _go_."

Dean goes as followed, or rather tugged, snagging Cas' fingers as he does and doing his best to keep up. She's talking a million words a minute about the plan for the tournament they're attending, and though he can't make every word out, Dean couldn't be happier to hear her talk.

At Comic Con, stood in the parking lot as the crowds slowly dwindled away from them, Charlie had approached them, answering all of Dean's questions as honestly as she could, even submitting to holy water and iron tests to make sure she was really her. That body he'd cradled to his chest was apparently a clone or shifter of some sort; she's spoken about _government testing_ and _secret agencies_ and _witness protection programs_ , and to be honest, a lot of it's gone straight over his head.

The world they live in is so very far from black and white that it's been forever since he didn't consider just about everything possible. The main thing is, Charlie's back, and though there's residual anger that she hasn't contacted them to let them know she's okay, it's beat by the fact of her actual presence. Hell, he's even happy to keep calling her _queen_ like she keeps on insisting as they make their way around the various tents.

Cas is a natural at sword-fighting. Dean's discreetly adjusting himself for the sight of it, unable to get the image of the fierce angel warrior his husband used to be out of his mind; even if the image he's creating of Cas fighting as an angel is like something out of a Michelangelo painting, with no part of it based on actual events.

The food is good, the mead is excellent, especially the honey-flavored one that Cas has taken a shine to and is not-so-slowly working through his third of. The music is nothing Dean would ever play in the Impala, but then that wouldn't be very accurate for the period they're roleplaying. Everyone around them seems happy, and the atmosphere is joyful and light.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

They won't see Charlie again for a couple of months, something about a mission overseas that Dean can't work out if means actually on another continent, or in some alternate reality, or something; with Charlie, he thinks, it could be just about anything. But for now, she's with them, currently pulling them both to their feet, indulging in an ungainly three-way dance that they laugh their way through for having to prop an inebriated Cas up. It's perfect, it's silly, and it's exactly what they all needed; even if he's going to have one very hungover husband to nurse better when they get home.


	20. Vegetables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter grew a little thanks to a suggestion by dmsilvis :) x

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Just don't tell Sam."

Dean gives Cas the strict instruction as they both tuck into a second helping of the vegetable pie he's made—full of ingredients grown in their own garden—humming in satisfaction about just how good it tastes.

"It is still pie, Dean," Cas teases, scraping up another forkful.

"Yeah, but it's damn _good_ pie; I can't have him knowing _that_." Dean thinks of the incessant teasing he'll get for willingly eating so many vegetables and grimaces. There have been soups, salads, stews, pasta dishes, and tray bakes of everything imaginable; Cas' vegetable garden has given Dean so much to cook with that he's actually been looking recipes up online to figure out what to try next.

He's even got a Pinterest now to keep track of some of the recipes he finds. Cas thinks that's adorable, apparently, and is dropping unsubtle hints about him setting up an Instagram just for the food he cooks.

"Are you taking the last of the soup to the Ferguson's tomorrow?" Cas asks as he finishes his last bite, and pushes back against the table with a contented sigh.

"Yeah, I said I would since both of 'em are sick," Dean replies, though the soup is actually his chicken and rice soup used to cure all ills, with barely a vegetable from their garden in sight. But it's still good soup, and Dean feels like he needs to do _something_ for the two of them, who have practically adopted he and Cas into their home. They have dinner together twice a month with Cas and Mr. Ferguson talking about history as though they'll never stop, as Mrs. Ferguson rolls her eyes and quizzes Dean on clues for her crossword, asking in loud whispers what he thinks of the latest episode of Dr. Sexy.

"I will be out for most of tomorrow," Cas adds, gesturing for Dean's plate as he stands.

"I know," Dean says as he follows him, returning with a cloth to wipe the table. "You said you reckon you'd be back by around four?"

"Yes," Cas agrees. "That is, I assume we will be finished by then."

"And you're sure you don't need me to come pick you up?" Dean asks, already thinking he knows the answer.

"No, Nathan will take me home," Cas smiles, hands already in the sink full of dishes. "I believe tomorrow we will have some new honey to try."

"One of the perks of setting up his pollinator garden, huh, Cas?"

"Nathan and his partner have been collecting honey for almost fifteen years," Cas replies, speaking fondly of the couple he's been helping redesign the land of around their huge house. Cas is getting quite a name for himself, Dean smiles, kissing the back of Cas' neck as he passes behind him to the fridge, gesturing at him with a bottle of beer.

"We can make that honey pecan pie again if you get enough," Dean suggests, and Cas hums in clear approval of the idea. Dean watches him for a second then nods to himself, thinking about going to the Ferguson's in the morning as he pours the soup into Tupperware to store in the fridge. The soup's only part of the reason he's visiting them, aside from checking if they need anything, of course. Cas' bike is ready, or at least it will be. Dean's putting the final touches to it tomorrow, which is why he's half-glad Cas will be out so long, so he can get it ready.

He's pretty sure Cas will be too tired to try it out when he gets back, full of aches from stooping over flower beds and laying the turf which Dean thinks will take up a lot of his day. But Dean's got a massage bar upstairs to help him with that, and hopes Cas will be awake enough afterward to at least see the bike, if not ride it. Cas is mumbling to him about natural alternatives to slug repellent, and Dean's trying to hum in all the right places, too fixated on the idea of Cas on his bike in bike leathers to really hear a word he's saying.

* * *

The bike, even if Dean does say so himself, is beautiful. He's resprayed it a little to update the color, and it's now a proud Dodger blue. Every surface of it gleams, and the roar of it hits Dean just right in the stomach putting a smile on his face every time he tries it. Mr. Ferguson even gets himself a coughing fit for admiring it so much when Dean announces the last of his repairs and adjustments are finished and calls into the house for him to look.

"You've done her proud," Mr. Ferguson announces, right before he starts up coughing for a second time. Dean clucks in disapproval, readjusting the blanket around his shoulders and helping him shuffle back inside, nodding only when he sinks back into the couch. Mrs. Ferguson is equally pale, but there's a bright fondness in her eyes for Dean as he fusses over the two of them.

"Dean. Come back on the weekend; we'll both be fine," she tells him, staring at him over the rim of her glasses.

"Not gonna stop me coming back to check on you later," Dean says, bringing a fresh box of tissues closer from where he knows she keeps them, and topping off both their cups of lemon and honey tea.

"Even if you persuade that beautiful husband of yours to try out his bike later on today?" she teases. "You'll not have the mind for anything else."

"Yeah, well," Dean says, hand up the back of his neck and squeezing, arguing with his cheeks not to blush. "Maybe he'll want to come check on you too."

"If he walks in here in bike leathers we'll be at the urgent care with you having palpitations," Mr. Ferguson chides as he looks over at Mrs. Ferguson, though there's a knowing glint between the two of them that makes Dean think he's intruding on a shared memory he really doesn't need to know the details of.

"Anyway," he says, clearing his throat awkwardly, "I'm dropping by later. But you have my number, and if you need anything—anything at all—"

"We will call," Mrs. Ferguson assures him with a sharp nod and a smile. "Now, go. We are fine."

Dean gives a mock salute that she laughs at raucously then coughs for, and it takes a few sips of water even as she's waving him away before it calms.

* * *

Dean's nervous, and he's not sure why he's nervous; he's giving a _gift_ , not anything bad. But what if Cas hates the idea, or doesn't like the suggestion—or even doesn't want another vehicle on their drive? Though Dean's thought of that too, knows exactly how he wants to store Cas' bike so both Baby and the as-yet-unnamed bike can be shielded from bad weather.

But what if Cas doesn't _like_ it, Dean asks himself again, dropping his head back on the couch with a groan.

He jumps up once more at the sound of a car pulling up, racing outside, and just catching Nathan waving as he turns the car around. Cas waves too, looks tired but satisfied when he turns to Dean, handing him first a large jar of honey and then stepping closer for a kiss.

"Hey, Cas."

"Dean."

"Good day?"

"Exhausting, but yes. Everything has worked out perfectly."

Dean wraps an arm around him as he walks Cas inside, leading him upstairs. "Bath?"

"That would be wonderful," Cas agrees, sinking into the chair in the bathroom that Dean guides him to and letting out a tired groan. Dean smiles and starts running the bath for him, waving a couple of bottles of different foams and oils that are Cas' favorites then adding those to the tub.

"Beer?" Dean asks, and Cas nods gratefully, gesturing for him to come closer then pulling Dean in for a kiss. Dean leaves as he's stripping, running downstairs for two bottles then coming back up to find Cas stretching and craning his neck, completely naked, and not a care in the world.

There is a moment when Dean considers stripping himself, joining him for that bath, and abandoning everything for an early night. But then he really wants to see Cas' reaction to the bike, so he pulls the chair closer to the bath as Cas climbs in, and they catch each other up on their days. Though he doesn't resist for a second when Cas asks him to wash his hair, smiling to himself at the pleased noises he's making as he massages his scalp.

"I wanted to show you something," Dean says when Cas steps out of the bath and into the huge towel he hands him. Cas' eyes immediately drop to his fly, his smile lifting in amusement, and Dean laughs for it, ducking in for a kiss. "Not that. Later, sure. But—"

Cas cuts him off with another kiss, curling his fingers around the back of Dean's neck and stumbling closer, almost making Dean lose his resolve.

"Dinner's almost ready too," Dean says, forcing himself to step backward, earning himself a surprised raise of an eyebrow that he has to step away from before he caves completely. "Made that pasta thing you like."

"I am hungry," Cas agrees as he steps into the clothes Dean's brought through for him.

"Didn't they feed you today?"

"It was a very energetic day, Dean," Cas says, muffled as he starts the sentence with his sweater still over his face as he pulls it on.

"Do you… I mean, if you're tired, you can say no," Dean says, now torn between letting Cas rest, and desperately wanting to know his reaction to the bike.

"This is important to you," Cas says with that squint of observation that says he knows Dean better than anyone else.

"Well, it is," Dean says, hand up at the back of his neck as Cas finishes dressing, then snatching at their now-empty bottles and beckoning him to follow him downstairs. "But it can wait. I mean… maybe I can just show you, and then… I don't expect you to—not that—"

"Dean," Cas says, pressing him back against a kitchen counter to kiss him and thoroughly stealing Dean's thoughts.

"Uh…"

"You were saying?"

"Right," Dean says, shaking his head to clear it then taking Cas by the hand, leading him outside once he's slipped on the flip-flops that Dean never fails to smile at. "Okay, so. This might be a stupid idea—"

"I am sure that it isn't—"

"And I don't even know if you like these, so I… I guess I should've asked."

"Dean—"

"And you have to tell me if you hate the idea, 'cos the last thing I want is for you to feel forced—"

" _Dean_ —"

"And I don't want you to think I've spent a ton of money on this either, 'cos it was mostly a gift—from Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson. I just… worked on her."

Cas smiles, patient with him, and waits for Dean to stop stumbling over his words. Dean sighs to himself, tugs on his hand, then leads him across to the bike, not sure how Cas hasn't already noticed their beautiful new edition already if he's honest, but then he did say he was tired.

"Dean?"

"I thought… well, I know you can't… since you don't have your wings anymore, and… I mean, I know you don't regret that, but—"

"This is for me?" Cas says, his voice that soft, reverent thing it is when he's particularly in awe of something.

"Yeah, Cas. She's all yours," Dean says, watching as Cas approaches and smoothes his hand over the seat and handlebars. "I thought… I mean; I don't even know if you know how to _ride_ —"

"She's _beautiful_ ," Cas says, turning to Dean with a beaming smile.

"Yeah?" Dean asks, because he has to check.

"Yes," Cas insists, leaning in for a kiss though with one hand still pressed firmly on the seat.

Dean kisses him back, then takes a moment to tell him the story of how they have the bike, and agrees with Cas that they can sacrifice some of their new honey to make Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson a honey pecan pie of their own.

"I got you this," Dean says then, reaching behind the bike for a helmet, and taking out the store card he's stashed inside. "And this has got money on so you can… I don't know, Cas; maybe you'll want some bike leathers to ride in or something."

"You want to see me wearing bike leathers?" Cas asks, crowding up against him with a glint in his eye, one hand curled around his hip as the other holds on to the helmet and card.

"I mean… hell, yeah," Dean says with a snort of laughter, loving the way Cas' eyes light up. Cas kisses him harder then, hard enough to make Dean stumble backward, and he loves every second of it.

"Dean. Thank you. This is… beautiful," Cas says when he steps back, dropping his hand to tangle his fingers through Dean's.

"You don't even need to think about riding her today," Dean says, squeezing back, "let's… let's eat, and then if you're not tired—"

"I might have to spend this evening saying _thank you_ ," Cas says, and Dean's stomach gives an excited jolt for it.

"Well, okay then, Cas—"

"But food first," Cas declares, leaning in to kiss him once again, and then tugging on his hand to lead Dean back inside.

* * *

"What are you naming her, Cas?" Dean asks as they sink down on the couch together after dinner, both of them too full to move.

"I have been thinking about that," Cas says as he snuggles into him with a contented huff. "Though I am having difficulty choosing. I do have a short list."

"Okay, so, what's on the list?" Dean asks, kissing the top of Cas' head as he settles against him.

"Initially, I thought of _Matilda_."

"Matilda?" Dean asks, incredulous. "Dude. You'd make her sound like some kinda kids show character."

"Matilda means _mighty in battle_ , or _battle maiden_ ," Cas says, smiling at Dean's reaction as he sits back up to look at him before wriggling some more and resting his head on Dean's shoulder.

"Okay. So that… I guess that sounds… _better_."

"And then of _Sashenka_. Defender of mankind," Cas adds before Dean can even open his mouth to ask.

"Dude. It's a _bike_. Not some kind of… you're not going into battle—"

"And yet, I am a former soldier, who has commanded legions of armies," Cas points out with an ever-widening smile. "It seemed fitting."

"Well. She's your bike. You should name her whatever you want."

"I'm trying," Cas says, leaning in to kiss him, "I'm just attempting to find the right name that _fits_."

"Okay—"

"I even considered _Kerbasi_ ," Cas adds, frowning to himself.

"Kerbasi?"

"Yes. It means  _warrior_ in Basque, though different spellings of it appear also in German, and Teutonic—"

"Well, that's sounds—"

"Though I know you, and I know your brother," Cas adds drily with a hint of amused accusation.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, I can already imagine both you and Sam referring to my bike as  _kielbasa_ 'accidentally', so perhaps not," Cas continues with a raised eyebrow and the ghost of air quotes.

"Kielbasa. Kielbasa, like—"

"Kielbasa is a type of sausage typically found in Poland and Ukraine, though you can buy it in many places. I can already hear the _comments_ you will both make about  _riding sausage_."

Dean closes his eyes, trying to remove the image of Cas speeding along the highway on a giant sausage from his mind, and hides his head in Cas' neck for laughing. Cas shifts enough to get a kiss to the back of his head and laughs with him, his eyes bright with that laughter when Dean pulls back to look at him.

"He's your brother too," Dean points out, earning himself another burst of laughter.

"Exactly," Cas retorts, "I know you both very well." 

"So? Did you settle on anything?" Dean asks, reaching out to squeeze his thigh, still smiling hard.

"I did," Cas nods.

"And?"

"Since your intention was to give me the sensation of flying once again, I thought _Wings_ might be appropriate."

Dean smiles at that, imagines Cas flying—metaphorically or otherwise—along the highway, and loves the idea of it, preparing a lecture on road safety but happy to push that to one side for the rest of the evening. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"You know," Dean insists, wriggling to get comfortable and resulting in them both laid out on the couch. "About your wings. And these _armies_ of yours."

Dean loves Cas' stories, loves hearing him speak, loves every opportunity he gets to know more about him.

Cas sweeps his hand up under Dean's shirt and presses a kiss to his forehead, and begins.

 

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)


	21. Grill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"Look at this, Cas. It's for grilling _meatballs_ ," Dean says, brandishing the basket and already imagining exactly the kind of meatballs he's going to cook.

Cas smiles in encouragement but doesn't say anything, probably not quite as enthusiastic as Dean is about all the paraphernalia on offer for his new grill, but happy to keep him company nonetheless.

They _have_ to have a grill. It would be rude not to; Dean's created the perfect spot for it where the wind won't smear soot on their windows, and if rain comes out of nowhere they can quickly take shelter. The Peterson's are already talking about joint grill outs, and Dean's sure the Mackeys will have an even better grill than the one they're buying by the end of the week _just because_. But right now, he doesn't care; surrounded by grills and smokers, debating the benefits of charcoal against those of gas. (Charcoal wins, obviously, for the flavor; Dean's just humoring the assistant that keeps coming over.)

There's thermometers, tongs, cute little basket things to clip over the side of the grill to keep things nearby and warm while he's cooking. Meat shredders and bear claws, and, if Dean's honest, a whole load of other accessories that he's got no idea what he's supposed to do with.

Cas thinks he's hilarious, holding up aprons that say things like _The Grillfather_ and _Prick with a fork_ like they're the best jokes he's ever heard. _May I suggest the sausage_ with a huge finger pointing downwards wins, because Cas is a bastard and doesn't care about the looks he'll get from everyone when he's grilling—especially his _mother_ —and says that it would be rude of Dean to refuse his _gift_.

There's a marinade injector that makes Dean grimace at the sight of, then raise an eyebrow that says nothing but, _seriously, Cas?_ When Cas loses it again at a self-made joke about _basting_. He's holding up a basting brush and a spray bottle and crying with laughter, far too lost in his own jokes to explain what he's finding so funny.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

Dean draws the line at the _pig mitts_ Cas picks up, opting instead for some standard black ones, though can't help smiling as Cas puts the mitts on and begins an impromptu conversation between his hands. But then he spots a sign for _tenderizing tools_ and loses it again, leaving Dean stalking behind him towards the checkout where his grill is waiting, his cart overflowing with new _things_ , wondering if all that riding of his bike Cas has been doing these past few days has done something to his head, for making him _giggle_ as hard as he's currently doing. Though, Dean thinks, biting his lip absently, Cas does look really,  _really_ good in those bike leathers he bought, so he's not objecting.

And anyway, Dean adds, he loves it, either way, loves Cas when he's silly just as much as he loves him when he's serious. Dean kisses him quiet when he tries to start up the pig mitt conversation again. Cas hums into the kiss, raises his arms to hook his elbows over Dean's shoulders as he shuffles closer, and earns himself a slap on the ass for the pig snout shoved in Dean's ear, mumbling things about _fire starters_ that put songs in his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Dean's new apron](http://itsallthebest.com/shop/bbq-apron-funny-aprons-for-men-may-i-suggest-barbecue-grill-kitchen-gift-black-one-size/)
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> [pig mitts](https://smokenfire.com/shop/bbq-accessories/gloves-mitts-aprons-hats/pig-mitt-3/)


	22. A Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"I apologize," Cas says, pushing a glass of water into Donna's hand even as she snorts with laughter again. Dean's grilling apron is apparently _hilarious_ judging by all the reactions to it; Mom's schooled in a smile, Eileen's excitedly shown Sam the ASL for _sausage_ , Charlie's made three crude jokes about trying sausages that Jody's trying and failing not to laugh at, and Claire and Alex are taking _pictures_ of the damn thing to no doubt post online.

Dean sighs through it all, checks Donna has recovered from her laughing fit for Cas' comment about being a sausage sampler, and smiles as Cas walks up to him looking contrite, wrapping his arms around him from behind and kissing his shoulder.

"Do you need any help?"

"Think you're doing enough entertaining our _guests_ ," Dean retorts, earning another muttered kiss into his shoulder before he turns back enough to get a proper one and winks, letting Cas know he's only teasing.

"I wish that Jack would come back to visit us on days like this," Cas says then, and Dean turns to study his face watching his smile turn into a frown. 

It's the first time Cas has mentioned him in months. Dean knows he constantly thinks of him, and worries about him, can't forget the promise he made to Kelly or stop being furious that it's not something he can fulfill. The random emails Cas receives from him at times both pause his worrying for a while, and puts this wistful look on Cas' face that Dean goes out of his way to take away from him every time he sees it. By whatever means he can.

"Yeah, me too, Cas," Dean says, quickly wiping his hand after resting the tongs on the grill so he can cup Cas' face and draw him in to another kiss. "He'll come back when he's ready."

Cas sighs but nods as he looks back at him, nuzzles his cheek, and then spins away. Dean watches him make his way across the yard towards Eileen and Sam.

It's a truly beautiful day. All the people he loves are in front of him admiring the house and gardens if they've not seen them before, and checking on the developments of things they know about if they have. Eileen is tucked into Sam's side like she belongs there, and the smile on Sam's face Dean knows only too well, seeing a similar one in his own reflection every morning he looks in the mirror and thinks of Cas—who's typically up long before him and doing something in the garden, because he's annoyingly good in the mornings when it suits him.

He's glad he bought so much stuff to cook, Dean thinks to himself as the first of the neighbors start to arrive. Josh is immediately by the grill with Tessa abandoning him to interrogate Cas about the latest kittens in their shed, with Josh carefully listening to Dean's instructions for grilling as his dad Simon watches with a proud smile.

Sam and Eileen are showing the Fergusons to two chairs Dean's saved for them specifically knowing they're the easiest ones to get out of if they need to. Robert and Karen huddle with the Petersons looking shyly at everyone else until Donna storms over to introduce herself with her usual unfailing enthusiasm for everything. Greg squeezes Dean on the shoulder in passing as he puts the potato salad he's made on the small table to his side, introducing himself to people as he grabs himself a drink.

 

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"You're a natural at this, Dean," Mom says as she comes to stand beside him, holding up a plate so he can start loading up some burger buns.

"What? The grill?"

"That, and having a group of people around who don't know the first thing about each other come together like they're old friends," she smiles, full of pride. "This whole bringing people together, making them feel welcome—looking out for people. You're a natural. Thank you for having us all here for Independence Day."

Dean's not sure how he's supposed to respond to that, but she leaves before he has the chance, probably sensing the awkwardness in his stance. Cas catches his eye and smiles, and that uncertainty drops, going back to flipping burgers and listening in on a dozen conversations all at once.

Those conversations carry on long past dusk, the lanterns Cas insisted on having dotted around the place bathing them all in a soft light. Alex and Claire disappear inside, and when Dean goes in to get the fireworks he finds they've cleaned the kitchen from top to bottom, not a trace of so much as a dirty glass in sight.

Cas' face watching the fireworks is more interesting to Dean than the fireworks themselves, and when they've finished watching their own they turn their eyes to the horizon to watch the sky light up with fireworks from other people in the distance. Cas is snug in his arms, head dropped back against his shoulder, and Dean is content with the world.


	23. Planning a vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"Alright. So if we're gonna do this, we need to plan it out."

Cas nods in eager agreement dragging a tablet into his lap, then turns expectantly to the screen on the laptop in Dean's. Dean smiles at the enthusiasm there on his face, has to lean in and kiss him for it, and is rewarded with a smile and a wriggle in his side telling him Cas wants to get on with it.

"So. I say we make for the Grand Canyon first. Maybe stop halfway; say, head to Colorado Springs. Stay somewhere the night so we're rested; it's our vacation, might as well live it up a little, huh, Cas?"

"Yes," Cas agrees, kissing his shoulder and making notes on his tablet, then typing furiously, pointing something out to Dean. "There are three museums I would like to see."

"How 'bout we stay a couple days, then?" Dean suggests, earning a beam of a smile, before Cas is pulling up his notes and adding details, turning the screen so Dean can add the addresses to his map. 

It's not really something he's put that much effort into before, the planning of a long journey, normally figuring it out as he goes. But this is their first vacation together since their honeymoon that isn't only a snatched weekend away, and Dean is adamant he's doing this _right_ for Cas.

"We will be passing through two natural forests," Cas points out.

"We'll drive slow. If we feel like taking a walk, having a look around, worst case scenario is we find another motel nearby," Dean shrugs. Cas nods eagerly again and adds more notes to his tablet, whatever he's writing already seeming several pages long.

"And then to the Grand Canyon," Cas says, nodding as Dean moves the cursor. The Grand Canyon now has a special place in Dean's heart because of the brief time they've already spent there together, and he can't wait to go back. Right up until Cas speaks again. "I want to do the Skywalk this time."

Dean swallows hard just at the thought of it but pastes on a sickly smile, knowing he won't be able to stomach the thought of Cas going alone, so he'll have to do it. And speaking of stomachs—

"You're gonna have to take your medication for motion sickness the whole time we're on this. No point in us going if you're gonna be sick."

"Of course," Cas nods solemnly, and dammit, Dean thinks, why does he have to be so cute? Why does _he_ have to _notice_ he's so cute, he adds to himself, even as he leans in for another kiss.

"Maybe take a couple days here too?" he suggests, and again Cas nods, and adds some details to his list. "What're you writing there?"

"I want an itinerary," Cas replies.

"Well, yeah, okay. But you know, we don't have to stick to it rigidly, or anything."

"I know," Cas agrees, "I would just like to have a rough outline of where we are going, in case there is anything else we can see on the way."

Dean nods, looking down at the list and smiling at some of the things Cas is adding, determined to give him every one that he can. "Now; next is gonna be a long drive."

"To the water park?" Cas says with renewed excitement, as Dean pulls up the details for Disney's Typhoon Lagoon Water Park. Cas has probably memorized every single inch of the park for how often Dean's seen him on their website.

"Yeah, Cas, to your water park," to which Cas chatters a little about _longest rides_ and _best views_ and all the other facts and figures he's memorized, leaving Dean staring at him with a helpless smile on his face.

"What?" Cas asks when he stops talking, and Dean shakes his head, wraps an arm around him and squeezes him into his side, then pulls back and nods at the screen.

"Nothing."

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"Can we take a detour if it is a long way between the two?"

"Sure. Where'd you wanna go?"

"Roswell," Cas says, pointing it out on the map. "We can take a souvenir for Sam."

"You wanna go look at a bunch of aliens, Cas?" Dean teases.

"That is what Roswell is famous for, Dean," Cas retorts.

"Yeah," Dean huffs, "and every time I ask you a question about if aliens are real or not, you change the subject."

"Dean," Cas says, a ridiculous smile on his face, obviously intending not to answer again. Dean huffs in frustration and smacks a kiss on his cheek that leaves Cas laughing, before he's making even more notes.

"Find us some kinda Area 51-themed diner, or something."

"Yes."

"Alright. And we'll spend a few days there at the park, then head on up to Niagara Falls," Dean says, pointing out the route on the map.

"We can stop in Charlotte and Pittsburgh," Cas says decisively.

"Well, okay then, Cas," and Dean watches as Cas pulls up more lists of _things to do_ , selecting a couple with an excited jab of his finger and adding those to his list as well.

"Where next?"

"Niagara Falls."

"It will be very beautiful," Cas tells him, that smile now one that's serene.

"Yeah, it will," Dean agrees, looking forward to watching the Falls with Cas by his side in no hurry to be anywhere.

"Perhaps two days," Cas suggests, and Dean nods in answer, hoping to extend this vacation as long as they are able in the time they've got before they have to be home.

"How 'bout we don't plan anything for the drive back. See what we feel like doing if we see stuff on the way?"

"That sounds perfect," Cas agrees, making a final note on his tablet before pushing it on the table then sitting back, resting his head on Dean's shoulder with a contented sigh.

"When?"

"Dean?"

"When can we leave?" Dean asks, kissing the top of Cas' head and already wanting to be on the road.

"Perhaps three days from now," Cas replies, turning his head enough to kiss his shoulder again. "I have a yard to do tomorrow, and we will need to buy some things before we leave. _Do_ some things."

"Like, go say goodbye to all the kittens we've been handing out around here?" Dean teases, immediately kissing off the forming pout on his face. He's just as guilty; every home where they've taken kittens he's made excuses to visit and can't help but smile for seeing how they're all growing.

"It is responsible, Dean—"

"And you're a soft touch—"

"As are you—"

"Never said I wasn't," Dean replies, kissing him again. "We can still keep one the next time something like this happens, you know. I got no problem with—"

"But how would we choose? Would the scent of our cat prevent other cats from coming to our shed? We might—"

"We'll think about it, okay, Cas?" Dean says, having listened to Cas talking himself in and out of keeping a kitten or three numerous times. "And we should think about any stuff we need to buy before we leave for this vacation."

"I need a new razor—"

"Yeah, you do," Dean agrees, sweeping a soothing thumb over where Cas caught himself just beneath his jaw for shaving half-asleep with a blunt blade.

"Shower gel. Toothpaste."

"You could do with some new flip flops," Dean adds, thinking of the bright orange ones that are falling apart that he thinks he'll actually miss when Cas finally gives up on them.

"We should make a list," Cas agrees, shifting a little more so his forehead's in Dean's neck.

"What's with all the lists?" Dean teases, earning himself an indignant wriggle that he immediately wraps his arms around.

"You know I like to be organized," Cas huffs, "if I am organized—"

Dean cuts him off by ducking for a kiss, pulling back to catch his smile. "I can't wait to go on vacation with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noooooo the next chapter is not their vacation, I'm sorry, that would have turned into a long, epic thing <3 x


	24. More plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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"How many photos did you take, Cas?" Sam asks, as they're scrolling through their vacation folder that seems to be never-ending.

"I lost count."

"We spent a week in Disneyland; nowhere near enough," Dean says, turning his head carefully so Eileen can read his lips.

"We were only supposed to go to a water park—"

"But Charlie sprung us passes for just about everything," Dean finishes for Cas, remembering the look of delight on his face when he'd told him about it.

Cas then launches into a story about their time in the Animal Kingdom, and Dean excuses himself to top up their coffee, carrying through a tray with those favorite cookies of Cas' and some other ones they wanted to try.

"The view looks awesome," Sam says, pointing to a picture of the Grand Canyon since Cas has got the photos on shuffle and they're jumping all over the place instead of appearing in chronological order.

"It is," Cas agrees, proceeding to talk about the geological processes that formed it and describing the long-extinct animals that used to wander the area. Eileen catches Dean's eye and they share an exasperated, fond smile, as Cas and Sam go back and forth about it while they quietly sip their coffee.

"We should take a vacation," Sam says softly then to Eileen, turning better to look at her and smiling when she nods.

"Soon," she agrees, listing some of the places she'd like to see, and Dean can tell Sam's filing them all away for later not missing a single one.

"Did you rehome that second litter of kittens?" Sam asks when they're finally through the last of the pictures, turning his eyes to the window.

"We did," Cas says proudly, beginning to list their names and their new locations.

"Remember that dog I told you about? That started the whole thing with the shed?" Dean says, smiling at the thought of it.

"Yeah. You said it was a real timid thing."

"It was," Dean agrees, "but we came back to the poor thing curled up with a gammy leg in our shed a month or so ago. Took him to the vet, got him fixed him up."

"You're not keeping him?" Sam asks in surprise.

"No. Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson were thinking about getting a dog. Said they'd take him in, help him calm down, stop him being so afraid of everything. And when they're away for the winter, we'll have him here."

"Speaking of," Sam says around a mouthful of cookie, "what are we doing for the holidays?"

Dean watches Sam's almost continual use of ASL and is proud of how quickly he's picked it up. He often watches Cas talking to him on Skype to help him learn, and is even picking up a little himself. Not enough though, he decides, making a mental note to ask Cas for a few more lessons of his own when Sam and Eileen have gone home after the weekend.

"Sam?" Dean asks, turning his attention back to his question.

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"We've got Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year to think about."

Dean kind of wants to do them all at their house even though it's going to mean a ton of work. But he nods anyway. "What are you thinking?"

"You did Independence Day here, so… maybe Thanksgiving at Mom's? With you cooking," Sam adds hastily for the grimace that must be on Dean's face.

"We can prepare some things here before we leave," Cas adds, and by _we_ , he really means _Dean_ , but Dean doesn't correct him on it.

"Sounds good."

"And then Christmas, here, if you want," Sam adds, eyes darting around the room as though already imagining a Christmas tree.

Dean already knows the perfect spot. "Yeah, let's do that."

"And then… Jody's on about New Year up at hers with everyone."

"Summer's not even out and we've got ourselves booked up 'till the end of the year," Dean huffs, absently squeezing Cas' thigh. "What are we, normal people, or something?"

Cas presses into his side without a care in the world, and they continue making plans for the holidays they'll spend together.

 


	25. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yes. Halloween in February. And why not! It's only short, but it's... well. You'll see :)

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

There are skeletons in the windows, cobwebs creeping up their steps, a dozen carved pumpkins out front, and more candy than Dean's sure is going to feed an army of mini witches, zombies, and ghosts when they come calling. Claire's with them for the Halloween weekend, however, and it seems to be a competition between her and Dean about who can sneak the most candy without Cas noticing, which isn't much; he can sense the weight difference in the plastic cauldrons they've got ready inside the front door by under an ounce, Dean's sure of it.

They were going to dress up, but then a few of the neighbors suggested they all get together at Robert and Karen's now they've got the most obnoxiously sized, wall-mounted, surround-sound Chromecast probably dishwashing television Dean's ever seen. Not that he has TV envy at _all_ , he thinks, casting a forlorn look at their own TV, even if Cas does insist it takes up most of a wall.

The plan is to wait for trick and treaters until about eight, then pile into Robert and Karen's to watch scary movies until they're all too frightened to sleep. They're even going over in their _pajamas_ , because apparently an adult slumber party is exactly what most people in the street are needing, and they're not as uncommon and whimsical as Dean had previously thought.

Cas bought Claire these really cute pajamas covered in pumpkins when they'd heard what was happening, as well as slippers that look like werewolf feet, which she's already shrieked at laughing for almost slipping in them coming down the stairs. Claire's had Cas watching all the Halloween-inspired music videos she can find, and scared the crap out of him with fake blood up her arm that looked way too realistic.

Watching the two of them together on the couch as he passes makes Dean's heart do a dance. It's like the moment Claire steps into their home she lets herself be free of all that expectation she forces herself to wear, lets herself be silly, and goofy, and not care about who's looking. Cas loves every second of having her stay, and Dean's caught him sighing wistfully a few times for a couple hours after every time she's gone home. Which is when he wraps him up in hugs without a single word, until he's smiling again.

"You guys want some pizza while we're waiting?" Dean calls, hears a joint _yes_ and a scramble of feet following to the kitchen. He's already got the dough ready, chopped up a ton of the remaining vegetables from Cas' garden as well as bought a ton more stuff, and takes direction as he makes them all a pizza to keep them going until they head over for their _slumber party_ , which is already promising to be overflowing with food and beer.


	26. Veterans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
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"See, Cas? We don't forget about it; we don't ever forget about it."

Dean squeezes Cas' waist as they watch the veterans parade passing by them, pointing out the approaching cadets to follow the small group of eldest surviving veterans from World War Two.

 

[ ](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"We don't necessarily _learn_ from the wars we have been a part of either," Cas points out, sighing to himself. Dean kisses the side of his head, agreeing, but not knowing what else he can say to bring him out of his mood.

Cas has been quiet for a couple of days, Dean catching him staring off into the distance one moment, then slamming doors and heading outside _for fresh air_ the next. He knows it's not _him_ that's the problem, and that Cas needs a little space, but wishes he could do something to help him work through whatever it is that's on his mind.

"And the way we treat our veterans," Cas continues with an edge to his voice, "that is no way to treat those who have fought for our countries—our way of life—even if we _don't_ condone war. It isn't how we should treat _anyone_ that needs our help."

"No, I know, Cas," Dean agrees, pressing another kiss to his temple and holding him close, wondering what to say to make things right.

"Simon received very little support," Cas says then with a scowl.

"Simon?"

"Josh's father."

"Right."

"When he had PTSD, and those migraines, and couldn't work; where was the support for him?"

"I… don't know, Cas," Dean says, wishing he did, wishing that Simon and all the other veterans didn't have to face anything that would mean them _needing_ support.

"These wars we continue to fight; do we ever resolve anything?" Cas asks then with a dejected sigh. Cas is referring to himself as wholly human, Dean notices, and wonders if that's the thing behind his mood.

"I… think some of us learn from them," he tries, earning himself a rapid head shake.

"Not enough of us."

"Cas—"

"Do you realize how many veterans become homeless here every year due to difficulty adjusting to civilian life, mental and physical illnesses, and general neglect?"

"I—I can't say I do."

"Almost forty thousand," Cas bites out, fury in his voice. "There are already too many homeless people from other walks of life. But this strikes me as… particularly cruel."

The homeless man, Dean thinks, realization dawning on him, the homeless man that's been finding shelter behind the library, and was found going through trash cans looking for food. Cas has been worrying about him for a couple of weeks now, researching ways he can help without approaching, since the man looks permanently startled, giving Cas the impression he's reliving memories, and he doesn't want to make things worse.

"Cas—"

"So this parade, while it is a respectful commemoration of those who have lost their lives, it does not do anything to assist those still living," Cas continues, loud enough for a few people to be turning their heads.

"So when we get back, we'll call someone. See if we can't figure out some way to help," Dean suggests, kissing at his temple again, hoping to reassure him.

"Helping _one_ isn't enough," Cas mumbles, and Dean sighs, knowing the tone of his voice means Cas might need to argue in circles for a couple more hours before he can talk himself out of it.

"No, you're right. It isn't."

"There should be better care, Dean. Shelters. Soup kitchens—there should be no _need_ for soup kitchens," Cas seethes.

"Tell you what," Dean says, turning and wondering which direction to head in. "Let's say you and me go look for some… I don't know, Cas; we can look for some stands, or something. Gotta be something on display around here with people we can talk to."

"About?"

"Helping? Figuring out what kinda resources there might be for this guy? Gotta be worth an ask, right, Cas?"

Cas turns in his arms, narrows his eyes at Dean and observes him curiously enough for Dean to start wondering if he's been wrong, if he _has_ done something wrong after all. But then Cas is kissing him, hard, enough to have Dean stumbling backward, and before Dean can say a word is tangling their hands together and pulling him through the crowds.


	27. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
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When the bad weather that they've been threatened with for about a week finally rolls in, Dean takes one look at the thick layer of snow that was their street, and knows they're not going to make it to Mom's for Thanksgiving.

Cursing at himself for not having set off sooner, Dean stomps away from the window and runs upstairs, unplugging his cell phone from its charger and calling to apologize.

"What happened?" Cas says, rolling over then immediately complaining about the cold, wriggling further down under their numerous layers of blankets until his words become muffled. Dean takes one look at the very tips of his hair peeking out and sighs, shrugs out of his sweater and shirt leaving only his t-shirt, steps out of his jeans and socks, and dives back in next to him, pressing kisses anywhere he can get to until Cas stops complaining about him being like hugging a block of ice.

"We're not going to Mom's," Dean grumbles, thinking of their kitchen teeming with food he'd half cooked, half prepared already so it would make things quicker at Mom's. He hears his cell phone buzz, which is probably Sam telling him not to worry, that he and Eileen are already at Mom's so she's not alone, and they've got enough other food in so they won't starve.

"The weather?"

"Twenty foot of snow out there," Dean grumbles, wriggling closer still.

"Twenty feet? Are you sure?"

"Maybe not twenty feet," Dean admits, "maybe just _looks_ like twenty feet."

"We can't drive in it?"

"No. And you hear that wind?" Dean says, and Cas lifts his head up just enough to listen, then is grumbling under his breath again.

"This is not… normal weather."

"No, it isn't. But there's nothing we can do about it now. We'll just have to keep warm, eat our way through everything—where're you going?"

But Cas is rolling away, stretching out for his cell on his nightstand and snatching it back under the covers. Dean listens as he calls Greg, then Robert and Karen, realizes their plans have also been ruined, and that unlike them, they were going somewhere where food would be provided, so they don't have much of anything in at all.

"They'll be over at twelve," Cas announces, reaching up to slip the cell phone beneath his pillow then snuggling ever closer to Dean.

"What?"

"For Thanksgiving," Cas says, as though it's obvious.

"But Cas," Dean protests, already jumping up, "I need a good couple hours to cook the turkey. And the potatoes need peeling. I got a ton of sauces I need to whip up; that's not even talking about the—"

"Dean," Cas sighs, burrowing back down in the warmth, "it is before eight in the morning. We would not even have been setting off for your mother's for another hour. They are coming to keep us company; not to demand that we eat at a certain hour."

"But—"

"They are _alone_ , Dean," Cas says, sighing as though Dean's being awkward.

"I know that, Cas. And I've not got a problem with—"

"You _like_ cooking for groups of people," Cas adds, treating him to one raised eyebrow as he pulls back one layer of cover to look up at him.

"I… well, yeah, I _do_ , Cas. But—"

"Then you are welcome."

"...for?"

"Me inviting them."

"I—" Dean tries to say, the word spluttering out along with his thoughts. But Cas is grinning at him, even blowing him a _kiss_. Dean knows he's defeated, and is secretly thrilled at the idea of cooking what's got to be his first real Thanksgiving feast—in their own home, too. So he sighs, kneels back on the bed and tickles Cas through the layers; ineffective, but enough to make him grumble again.

"Dean—"

"You're on dish duty," Dean calls as he leaps off the bed, taking a pillow with him that he launches at Cas' head. "And maybe you can come help… I don't know; spruce the place up a bit. Put out them candles you like. Go all out."

"We don't have to watch football, do we?" Cas says, sitting up and looking like a bird's nest has replaced his hair.

"Not unless you've invited people who like football."

"No," Cas sighs, reluctantly pulling back the covers, "no; they all seem like sensible people who have never once mentioned football in my presence."

"Then get your ass in gear," Dean yells, already at the top of the stairs. He listens out for Cas' final grumble, laughs to himself, and starts planning what to do first.

 


	28. Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
> 

Dean's sure he's never seen so many fairy lights. And as for tinsel, he didn't even know there were that many styles, lengths, and colors available. They've got _all_ of them, he thinks, their house looks like an oversized Santa's grotto, and Cas is still adding annoying singing ornaments to every shelf. Dean _loves_ it.

The tree looks full to bursting, and there's even a picture somewhere of Cas precariously balanced on top of it—sort of—for the whole _angel on top of the tree_ thing that for some reason Cas finds hilarious. The picture was taken when they were both inebriated road testing eggnog, which is one of the reasons the picture won't be shown to their guests. The other is that they're both naked in the picture and the pictures that followed, which in turn had led to… other things, right at the foot of the Christmas tree. 

Dean's going to have trouble not remembering _that_ when Sam, Eileen, and Mom arrive, and he's caught Cas smiling about it more than once.

"What time are they arriving?" Cas asks for the third time as he passes Dean with another armful of presents that are beginning to creep across the floor. Albus, the Ferguson's dog, is thankfully not interested in them whatsoever, only knowing two things. One, a longing look at the back door will give him free access to the garden and a rub down with a towel when he comes in with a mucky belly, and two, both Dean and Cas are utter pushovers when it comes to feeding him scraps.

"In a couple hours. Sam's picking Eileen up from the airport, then getting Mom; think the car's gonna be overloaded with stuff."

"Will there be room for Sam's car?" Cas asks, having already moved his bike back temporarily to the Ferguson's garage to make more room.

"They'll be fine," Dean promises him, grabbing him before he can climb the stairs again to steal a kiss, which Cas does this shy smile for that _still_ puts butterflies in Dean's stomach, leaving him smiling after him as he charges up the stairs.

* * *

By the time Sam, Eileen, and Mom arrive, Dean and Cas are already in their Christmas sweaters, the house is filled with the smells of Christmas food cooking, and there's music on in the background that's just enough without distracting them from talking. They unload the car together, all five of them knocking back a glass of eggnog before they do anything else, and then they're catching each other up on the news they don't already know, as Albus wanders between them looking for more givers of treats.

Dean proudly shows them their bedrooms having only just finished a repair in the one Mom's staying in, making pointed looks at Sam when he makes comments about squeaky beds. There are even Christmas decorations in their rooms; Eileen lifts up the singing Santa on the nightstand and waves it in Sam's face with an emphatic _no_.

Back downstairs they begin to prepare for dinner, a light, help yourself kind of deal Dean's been making stuff for, for a couple of days. In fact, he's barely left the kitchen over the past week, which means neither has Albus, resolutely by his side should he drop something as he cooks.

Sam's proposing to Eileen tomorrow. He drove over to talk to Dean about it a couple of weeks ago, fumbling over the words he was planning on saying to her, and nervously worrying that he'd not got the right ring. Dean hasn't told Cas, because Cas might be the one who reprimands _him_ for being a gossip, but he can't keep a single thing to himself, too excited about good news not to blurt things out.

Sam gives Dean a look over the counter as he passes him a plate of something for the table, and Dean gives him a nod back in reassurance. It's stupid, but when Sam asked him to be best man if Eileen says yes—which she will, Dean's got no doubt about it—it put a lump in his throat; even if he covered it up and growled out that he didn't even need to ask.

Cas is signing away to Eileen in ASL with his back to Dean, so Dean knows he's being sneaky, and telling her about some of his presents. _Some_ : Dean hasn't peeked, he promises he hasn't, but there's a couple of things popping up in their browser history that suggests some of the things Cas has been buying are not for other peoples' eyes. He just hopes he remembers that they'll need to open them in private when their guests have gone.

Sam moves to join Cas and Eileen, slinging his arm around Eileen's shoulders, and she wraps her arm around his waist as though she's already done it a thousand times. Mom walks towards Dean, holding her glass out for a refill, and Dean _knows_ she's sneaking Albus a biscuit behind his back, because the doofus of a dog can't crunch quiet enough to hide it.

"I hope Sam and Eileen have this one day," she says, casting a wistful look around them and clinking her glass against Dean's. Dean wonders if she's fishing for information, then decides by the look on her face that she isn't, so holds out a plate for her to take to the table, nodding towards it.

"Yeah, me too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Well, this was a fun thing to write, and I'm glad those of you who have been reading along have enjoyed it :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you've enjoyed having a nose around Dean and Cas' neighbourhood with me :D x


	29. A quick update on the neighbors (and other people)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)
> 
> Just a very quick glimpse at what some of the people in Dean and Cas' life are up to. There is obviously still more to come... hopefully this will tide you over!
> 
> x

**Sam and Eileen…**

...were married, in a sweet ceremony not far from Mom's. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, crammed in as it was with all their closest friends and family. It turned into a fairly raucous affair, with bursts of laughter interspersing joyous tears. Donna's laughter was just as infectious as it always is leading them all in fits of giggles. But when she sang for Sam and Eileen, faltering over hastily-learned ASL so Eileen could follow the song, she set everyone off crying all over again.

 

**Claire…**

...will not talk about her love life with anyone. There have been a few photos on her Facebook and Instagram that have filled Cas with suspicion, and dropping very pointed hints about how important any relationship is to start out with being friends. She visits once a month now, and claimed a room of her own. She's there often enough for the neighbors to recognize and invite her in for barbecues and dinners whenever she's around.

 

**Chris…**

...has had Dean practically rebuild his car. He was so impressed with that first work he'd done, that he'd showed up at theirs one afternoon to ask Dean about it. Chris had joined them in the garden for a sandwich and this strange tea Cas keeps insisting on them drinking, and timidly asked Dean if he was free. He's also now housed three of Cas' kittens, naming them Han, Luke, and Leia. Which on hearing, Cas had raised his hands high in protest then slapped them down against his sides in defeat, grumbling about _Star Wars fans_ under his breath as he'd pulled beers from the fridge.

 

**Robert and Karen…**

...got married. All the neighbors attended the cutest barn wedding Dean thinks there must have ever been, the evening reception spilling out of the barn and over on the land around it that's since seen the beginnings of that community garden—that Cas, of course, has had more of a hand in getting off the ground.

 

**Greg…**

...has a boyfriend. He tentatively asked if he could invite him to dinner when he came to Dean and Cas' a couple of months ago. Carl is a bigger Star Wars fan than Dean is, leaving Cas exasperated as he'd looked between the two of them, and Greg beaming at Carl as though he couldn't believe his luck.

 

**Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson…**

...are Dean's favorite neighbors. There's never a day when he doesn't make an excuse to see them, and misses them hard whenever they're away.

Once, on a typical Sunday when they had Cas and Dean over for dinner, Mrs. Ferguson tugged Cas up from where he had just sat in his usual place on the couch and instructed him to dance with her. Dean's biased, but Cas is a beautiful dancer, and Mrs. Ferguson seemed so enchanted in his arms, he could have watched them dance for hours.

 

**The Petersons…**

...have caved to Tessa's protests and adopted one of Cas' kittens. She's called it Sam; Dean likes to think it's because it has longer than average fur.

Colin, the Peterson's son, has finally left to go to college, returning every few months with bags of laundry that Dean's sure he can smell the stink of if he happens to be outside when he arrives. On his last visit, he brought Cas a few packets of wildflower seeds that were handed out during Fresher's Week, which Dean thinks is pretty weird. But Cas is happy, talking about the importance of butterfly populations on the land behind their house.

 

**Mr. and Mrs. Mackey…**

...do actually have matching lederhosen. They got dressed up for the Oktoberfest in town last month, and Dean almost choked on his beer.

Cas wasn't much better. Turning around when Dean nudged and pointed them out, and spitting out a mouthful of beer at Mr. Mackey's feet. But after that initial difficulty, the four of them had enjoyed a far pleasanter afternoon than Dean had ever expected to have in their company. Perhaps to do with the copious amounts of beer.

 

**Charlie…**

...is wherever Charlie is these days. She drops off the face of the earth for a couple of weeks then is Face Timing, or Skyping, or finding all kinds of others ways to reach them. Just last month she commented on or contacted Cas via every one of his social media accounts. His phone had buzzed for hours, with deep, rumbling laughter drifting out to Dean where he worked on Chris' car.

Charlie's doing great. Dean likes that she can drop out of their life and slot back in it like she's never been gone. Sure, he'd prefer she checked in more often sometimes when the look on her face suggests she's off doing something dangerous. But anytime he tries to suggest such a thing she reasserts her reign as queen. And tells him off for not doing the same thing when they go on hunts.

 

**Wings…**

...is surely the most cherished vehicle in the Winchester household, forever polished to a perfect gleam and calibrated precisely according to a manual Cas found on eBay. Cas in his bike leathers is… distracting. Dean's sure he purposely takes longer to get out of them just for the look on his face when he gets home from riding.

 

**The homeless veteran behind the library…**

...is called Steve. There is a small shelter organization that's turned out perfectly for his needs, providing a quiet room in a house shared with other veterans as he gets back on his feet. He's a voracious reader, devouring at least six books a week, and always stopping for a shy conversation with Cas.

 

**Albus...**

… is on a diet. The vet said that he's put on far too many kilos since his last visit, and everyone involved is at fault. Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson are apparently unable to resist the looks he gives them any time they go into their kitchen, and Dean and Cas, when Albus is over at theirs, are just as helpless to his charms.

Albus is not happy about this diet. Nor Cas' attempt to make him _run_ when, for reasons Dean refuses to understand, Cas decides to try taking up _running_.

It's short-lived for both of them.

Albus abruptly coming to a stop and refusing to move meant Cas went hurtling over a stray tricycle in their path and sprained his ankle, so swollen and painful that he's had to have his leg elevated for three days.

Dean's done his best to comfort him, in all sorts of ways. And Albus, when they're not doing _that_ , is proving good company. Sprawled out next to Cas on the floor beside their couch making just as many pathetic grumbles as Dean whenever he comes to check on them.

 


	30. Frohike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the update on Josh and Simon Bilby!

Today must be the most bitterly cold, miserable of days since this bad weather started late last week. Dean ducks to look up at the sky through their kitchen window, turns for the confirmation of the rain pelting against the back doors to the garden, and decides today is definitely the weather for stew.

Pulling together the ingredients, including an armful of the vegetables from Cas' garden, Dean turns the music up on the radio Cas bought him for the kitchen and begins to hum along as he cuts everything up. He checks for herbs, stock, and seasoning, and after debating with the contents of the refrigerator, dices up some chicken. Then throws in everything together, adds water, and gives it a stir, switching the slow cooker on and smirking at the memory of Sam handing over their _practical wedding gift_.

Cas is in the shower warming up after insisting on tending to a few weeds in his garden, and there's now no need for either of them to leave the house. Dean stretches, shrugs back into the sweater he'd taken off earlier when fixing a stubborn squeaky door, and sinks down into the couch.

He's up again seconds later hearing a frantic banging on the front door, sure he hears a muffled, _Mr. Winchester_ called through.

"Just a second."

Dean skids across the floor in his socks, yanking the door open, to find a thoroughly soaked through Josh Bilby, standing there panting and catching his breath. "Hey. Come in."

"I can't," Josh says, shaking his head frantically, "I'm too wet. And I didn't know where else to go, or what to do. My dad's at work. But Mr. Winchester—the _other_ Mr. Winchester, he knows—well, maybe he knows—"

"Josh," Dean says, stepping back and beckoning him in.

"I'm… probably messy," Josh says with a doubtful glance down at himself.

He has a point. His jeans are torn as though a leg got caught on something, thick with mud up one ankle and over his sneakers, and that strip of mud when Dean looks goes all the way up his side.

"It'll clean. _In_ ," Dean insists, belatedly noticing the frantic squirming mass that is Josh's chest. "Uh… what's that?"

"Josh."

Both Dean and Josh turn to Cas as he walks down the stairs, with Josh finally stumbling into the house so Dean can close the door.

"I found it. I think he—I _know_ it's a he, because I checked. I think he's lost his mom or something," Josh adds, adjusting one hand under the squirming thing, and pulling down the zipper of his jacket.

"Oh."

Cas' voice is that soft, awed, elated thing he gets every time he sees some new animal making themselves at home in their shed. In Josh's arms is a very, very small puppy, that Dean thinks may be far too young to be away from its mother. The poor thing is trembling, wide-eyed and panting, both wriggling to get away and trying to burrow further into Josh's arms.

"May I?" Cas says, extending his hands but not moving until Josh moves enough to pass the puppy over to him.

"I was just going home after delivering my papers," Josh says, looking frightening and not taking his eyes off the dog. "I chained up my bike to take the bag back, and when I came back out, I saw this bag moving. He was inside, all on his own."

"He must've been dumped," Dean says, sighing, itching to reach out, but the puppy is whimpering and turning itself in circles in Cas' hands, no amount of soothing doing anything to help.

"I didn't want to think that," Josh says tearfully, "I couldn't leave him there. He looks so small. And then he ran off and I had to crawl after him. And I slipped. And I didn't—"

"We should take him to be checked over," Cas says, holding the puppy up to inspect him then putting him in the crook of his arm.

"Guess it's not like we don't have frequent flyer miles for constantly being in the vet's office," Dean says, laughing. Cas looks at him and raises an eyebrow, smiling.

"Can you take us?"

"Of course. But Josh—"

"I'm so sorry for coming here," Josh says, staring frantically between the two of them, "but my dad just left for work. Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson have Albus and I didn't want… I don't know if this little guy's sick or something. And Tessa's away for Spring Break, so I couldn't—"

"Josh," Dean says, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder and trying not to grimace at how wet it is, "it's fine. I was just gonna say, do you wanna borrow maybe a shirt, or something? You're not… that much shorter than either of us."

Josh looks up the almost-foot that is their height difference, and shakes his head. "No, it's—"

"You'll catch cold," Cas tells him. Dean stores the comment away for later, for when Cas next protests _you can't catch a cold from being wet, Dean_ , and makes his way up the stairs.

"You wanna… Josh; kick your sneakers off and come up. We'll lend you something."

Dean waits for Josh to do just that then beckons him to follow, smiling as his eyes dart down to the puppy still wriggling in Cas' hands. "He's cute."

"I always wanted a dog," Josh replies. "I think maybe he's a beagle or something."

"Think your dad'll let you keep him?" Dean asks as he points out the bathroom and hands him a towel.

"I'd… I'd like that. But that's not why I tried to… I wanted to help—"

"Josh," Dean says with a smile, motioning for Josh to dry his hair a little more thoroughly, "you did good."

Dean leaves him then, searching through his and Cas' closets and pulling out a sweater that's going to be far too big but might help warm Josh quicker, as well as a t-shirt, a pair of socks, and the smallest pair of sweatpants he can find.

"Here," he says, when he returns to the bathroom with a bundle of clothes, "come down when you're ready. I saw a tear in your leg; you didn't hurt yourself, did you?" to which Josh shakes his head, and offers up a small smile.

Dean nods then jogs down the stairs to find Cas talking to the puppy inquiring after its health, and falls in love all over again, as he so often does.

"Think he's gonna be okay?" Dean asks, reaching out a finger that the puppy hesitantly sniffs then backs away from.

"I hope so. He's far too young to be away from his mother, and I don't like the way he's shaking. Plus, he's too cold."

"I have an idea," Dean says, bending to pick up Josh's muddy sneakers and squeezing Cas' arm for him to follow, dropping the sneakers in the sink in their utility room.

"What?"

Dean opens a cupboard door and pulls out a microwaveable heat pad. "Maybe if we wrap him up with this 'till we get there, it'll help."

Cas smiles in reward, taking the pad from his fingers and adjusting the puppy in his arms, spinning away to put the pad in the microwave with a continual commentary about what he's doing for his new charge. Dean smiles helplessly after him for a few seconds then turns to clean up Josh's sneakers a little, glad they still feel dry inside.

The clothes he's given to Josh are huge on him, leaving him looking a little forlorn when he appears at the foot of the stairs awkwardly clutching his dirty clothes. Dean trades the sneakers for the bundle and once again beckons for him to follow.

"I'm doing a wash anyway," he calls, which he isn't. But Josh already looks a little like he's still feeling guilty that he's intruding, so Dean wants to put him at ease. Josh's soft, _thank you_ puts a smile on Dean's face as he sorts through their laundry basket for other things to wash.

"What time does your father finish today?" Cas asks, holding the puppy out to Josh to cradle again, and adjusting the heat pad wrapped in a towel so it's comfortable for them both.

"Eleven."

"Twelve-hour shift?" Dean asks as he joins them, shaking the coffee jug with a good cupful left, and smiling at Josh's hesitant nod.

"Yes. It's usually ten, or twelve. Sometimes even fourteen."

"What were you going to do for the rest of the day?" Cas asks. It's the beginning of the Spring Break, and Dean knows Josh said something about his dad taking a few days off so they could have some time away.

"Watch Netflix, or something, I guess. I did all my homework on Sunday, and it's too wet to go anywhere."

"Don't you usually have soccer practice on Sundays?" Dean asks, handing Josh his coffee, remembering how he likes it from previous visits.

"Too wet," Josh replies, glancing out at the rain still pouring down before taking a grateful sip.

"Feels like it's been raining for days."

"I think since Friday," Josh agrees.

"Anyway," Dean says, nodding towards the rapidly draining cup, "you about ready to go?"

Josh nods back, and together they head out to the Impala, with Cas opening the back door for Josh to slip into before ducking into his own seat with a grimace for the rain.

* * *

They've been to this veterinary office so many times now, that when Dean, Cas, and Josh walk through the door they're greeted by the vet Sally almost like an old friend, just before she ducks into a room.

"More kittens for me, Cas?"

"A puppy this time," he replies. Sally smiles at that, gesturing that she has someone waiting. Dean guides Josh over to the waiting area as Cas books them in at the reception.

"How's he doing?" Dean says with a nod towards the bundle Josh is cradling.

"He's still shaking. Maybe I scared him; I thought the quickest way to get to you was on my bike, but it must've… maybe I startled him."

Dean thinks of the bike he's pushed into their garage for safe-keeping and makes a mental note to take a look at the back tire. "Maybe. But he could just be scared anyway. Lost his mom, maybe siblings; we don't know."

"I don't understand why anyone would do this to a dog," Josh says with a heavy sigh, continually checking on the puppy in concern. "I don't like it when they do it with cats, but at least they're more independent. Dogs are like us; they need people around."

Dean smiles at the logic, schooling it in before Josh can see. "So. If your dad's working late, what are you doing for dinner?"

"Dad made spaghetti," Josh tells him, and at the same time, his stomach rumbles loud enough for a woman sat opposite with a rabbit to smile at.

"Spaghetti's good."

"Not like my dad makes it," Josh says with a grimace. "Maybe I'll just have toast or something."

"It's that bad?" Dean says with a laugh.

"It's like chewing rubber. A whole piece of it."

"Didn't you eat lunch yet?" Dean asks when Josh's stomach protests loudly again.

"I wanted to finish my paper round first."

"Tell you what," Dean says, nudging against his arm, "me and Cas didn't eat anything yet either. How 'bout we pick up some sandwiches after we're done here, and you come back to ours. We've got stew tonight if you wanna stick around for something warm to eat; I'll drop you back to yours if you want."

"I couldn't—"

"Means I get to have an excuse to watch—"

"Are you inviting Josh to dinner so that you can subject me to that _show_ again?" Cas protests as he comes to sit beside them, tangling his hand through Dean's.

"Might be," Dean replies with a wink.

"I don't know how either of you sleep at night after watching _that_ ," Cas replies with haughty disdain for the pair of them.

Dean thinks of a witty remark about all the ways Cas helps him sleep but stops himself just in time remembering their young company, instead nudging into Josh's side again.

"Though you are most welcome, Josh," Cas adds, smiling around Dean and looking fondly at the puppy, who really is little more than a handful of fluff.

"That's… I'd like that," Josh replies, shy as anything.

"Then, we'll do that," Dean says with a sharp nod.

"H-how is Sam? And Eileen?" Josh asks then, adjusting the wriggling puppy in his lap.

"Good," Dean tells him with a smile, "think they're planning on coming over to visit in a couple of weeks. Thinking about having some people over when they do. You and your dad, of course, and some others."

Josh smiles and nods, mumbling that he likes the idea. "Dad says he likes that barbecue sauce you made last time. He… tried to make it at home."

"Not so good?"

"Think I can still taste it," Josh replies, with a grimace that makes Dean laugh hard.

"We might have a short wait," Cas adds as though he's forgotten, nudging against Dean's leg. "They are quite busy today."

"You didn't eat anything," Dean says, squeezing his hand.

"Not yet."

"Alright," Dean says, standing up, "new plan. You two stay here and I'll go find us something. Maybe we can, I don't know, eat in shifts, so we don't miss being called in. Anything you feel like, Josh?"

"There is a sandwich bar, I think, around the corner," Cas tells him. He should know, Dean thinks with a huff, given how often Cas is bringing stray cats here. It's a good thing Sally takes pity on him and doesn't charge all that much, so apparently enamored by the idea of their _shed_ that she does all their checkups for free, only charging if they need medication for something.

"Okay—"

"The muffins are exceptional," Cas adds.

Dean smiles in answer, tapping against his cheek and taking the hint. "Josh?"

"I don't mind," Josh says, leaning to the side, "I have money—"

"Animal rescue means you get fed for free," Dean tells him, waving his money away. "Be back soon."

Dean leaves to the sound of Cas cooing over the puppy, and considers not for the first time getting one of their own.

* * *

The beagle is named _Frohike_. There had been a brief discussion about the possibility of _Langley_ , and _Byers_ , and even _Queequeg_ at one point. But Frohike sticks; Frohike is currently fast asleep in the crook of Josh's arm looking far calmer than he'd been when they'd arrived in their house earlier. Josh is riveted to both the TV and the puppy he's claimed as his own.

Frohike is thought to be between six and ten weeks old, and is definitely the runt of the litter. But once he was warm and the vet had checked him over, they found nothing much was wrong with him aside from being hungry, which they soon fixed.

Josh had given his dad a heart attack sending him a message to urgently call. Dean had taken the phone from him and explained the situation, with Simon groaning in relief at Josh being so overdramatic, but with his voice filled with pride for what he'd done. There is no question about them keeping Frohike; Simon's already promised Josh that they'll go to a Petsmart in the morning, and Josh has been imagining all sorts of food, toys, and puppy paraphernalia ever since. Cas, his wilful enabler, browsing the website with him to pick things out.

"Do you think Frohike's too small to come with us?" Josh says out of nowhere, his eyes round in panic as he looks between the dog and Dean.

"Where are you going?"

"We're visiting one of dad's old friends in Denver. We're gonna go skating, and bowling, and… we can't leave Frohike home."

"Then you can bring Frohike here," Cas says. "It will be an upheaval for him, of course, getting used to a new home, and being taken from it again. But it is better than the life he would have faced alone outside. And is only temporary."

Josh hugs Frohike a little closer as though the thought of him being alone is a horrible one.

Dean doesn't offer up a single protest, because he has none. He loves that they're a foster home of sorts for all these _pets_ , and is so proud that when there's an animal in need, people tend to think first of Cas. Dean nuzzles against Cas' shoulder, where he's sat beside him on their laptop going through who knows what social media; keeping Dean and Josh company, but absolutely not watching _that terrifying show_.

Josh tells them about school, gets the pinkest blush on his cheeks when Dean teases him about Tessa. Talks about his dad and gets this really sweet, proud look about him when he tells them his dad's going for a promotion at work.

Josh is happy. He's been doing nothing but good since that horrible period when Dean had found him hungry, and Dean is sort of proud that Josh looks up to him and Cas in some weird, humbling kind of way. He likes that Josh feels able to approach them like he does—even if he's still at times shy— and that, more than anything, their neighbors and their neighbor's kids have become a mixing pot of good friends.

When Dean rouses a half-sleepy Josh to drive him home, Cas pulls him into the kitchen as Josh uses the bathroom, kissing him hard.

"What was that for?" Dean says, smiling as he wraps his arms low around Cas' waist, careful not to dislodge Frohike from his hand.

"You are unfailingly kind. Considerate. And made Josh feel at ease and comfortable in our home, when he was clearly nervous."

"No different than you did," Dean points out. "And he wouldn't have come here in the first place if it wasn't for you."

Cas shakes his head as though he refuses to hear the praise repeated back, and leans in for another kiss.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You... got the X Files reference... right???


	31. Personal Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm sorry, the people voting for this said jealous!Cas but I just couldn't do full on Cas jealousy right now, I need fluff and silliness! So here, have some Dean getting mixed signals and semi-jealous!Cas with a touch of fluff instead x

"She's beautiful."

Dean jolts up from where he's half laid in the Impala's trunk trying to remove a stain from some organic strawberries Cas insisted on buying, turning towards the unfamiliar voice and in the process almost bumping his head.

There is a man he doesn't recognize sweeping an appreciative gaze over Baby, one that then turns on Dean when he straightens up, looking him up and down.

"She is. And she knows it," Dean replies with a proud smile. Baby looks beautiful this morning even if he does say so himself. Lovingly hand waxed, and with this really sweet upholstery treatment Cas found him last week that smells, as it would do, of honey.

"Had her long?"

"All my life."

"Really."

The man looks surprised, and _interested_ ; Dean knows that look. It's kind of hard to miss with the way his eyes are drifting over him, and Dean is trying not to blush for realizing the guy's probably just had a good glimpse of his ass.

"Yeah. Was my dad's," Dean says gripping hard to the back of his neck and squeezing.

"Sort of a family air loom thing?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean says, his slight embarrassment seeping away to be replaced by suspicion for the question and whether it might be leading, or not. There is no history of car theft in this neighborhood but Dean doesn't recognize this guy at all. "Anyway—"

"I'm sorry," the man says, looking at least a little contrite as he shoves his hand out for Dean to shake. "Luke."

"Okay—"

"I'm Jessica's brother. Down—"

"Oh," Dean replies, relaxing, "yeah, she said you were here for the weekend."

"Can't miss the twin's sixth birthdays," Luke smiles, and it's a beautiful warm thing that puts Dean a little more at ease.

"They're sweethearts," Dean replies, thinking of the two girls who've just had a growth spurt and who are forever stressing their mother for repeatedly coming off their bikes and grazing their knees. Cas has a box of band-aids they now store in the garage along with candy specifically for whenever Kate and Hannah come speeding by.

"They are," Luke agrees. "We've sixteen kids due in a couple hours for their birthday party. Place is all decorated up and ready, and now they're fighting over bunches or braids."

"Tough decision," Dean laughs.

"Yeah. And I saw this beauty," Luke says with another glance at the Impala, "and, well. I just had to come and take a closer look."

Dean schools in a smile. Jessica and her husband Todd live with their twins at the end of their street, so there's no way in hell Luke could have just happen to  _see_  the Impala from theirs, he has to have been _looking_. Though come to think of it, Dean does half-remember seeing a guy with Kate and Hannah earlier that morning, out on what was possibly new birthday bikes.

"Well. She is quite the view," Dean says, fumbling for his words, "definitely worth a second look."

"I'll say," Luke agrees, though his gaze is firmly on Dean as he says it.

Cas is going to hate this, Dean thinks, half-wanting to sneak a glance into the garden to see if he's around and ready to march over to them with indignant fury for how close Luke is now standing. Cas getting _jealous_ should not do the things it does to Dean, and neither should he be even thinking about what Cas will do to _him_ once they're alone to get it out of his system.

"Anyway," Luke says then, clearing his throat, and looking around him as though he remembers he should be somewhere else, "Jessica's been sending me to all the neighbors to say, if any of you feel like it, you should drop by for birthday cake. I don't think the girls have had chance to thank you all for their gifts yet, and honestly? That cake might just be big enough to feed a whole army."

Okay, _now_ Dean feels stupid. He's made assumptions about a complete stranger checking him out and got himself a little heated at the thought of Cas being _indignant_ about it, when it turns out it's just an innocent neighborly gesture that's sent Jessica's _brother_ over.

"That—that sounds awesome. We'll be there," Dean says, his fingers tapping on the side the trunk needing to do something with his hands.

"Maybe give it a couple of hours," Luke says with a rueful laugh that is almost giving way to a groan. "Unless a room full of sugar-high kids is your kinda deal."

"I think Cas is better at dealing with that than me," Dean replies, "he's always got groups of kids flocking to him at the library, so. All else fails, I can hide behind him."

And okay, Dean thinks, no doubt smiling to himself, the thought of Cas going from stoic to sweet with kids in a matter of seconds also _does things_ to him. He can't help it; Dean's helpless to loving Cas for everything he is and does.

"Cas," Luke says, nodding, "your husband, right?"

Okay,  _now_ Dean's a little pissed for imagining he and Cas being _gossiped_ about by their neighbors.

"Yeah. He is."

"Jessica tells me that he once talked Hannah out of a tantrum by letting her hold one of the kittens you're rearing," Luke says with a burst of disbelieving laughter.

"Uh—"

"Man must be a _miracle_ worker. When she's in that kinda mood there is _nothing_ to bring her out of it. Trust me," Luke says with a huff of laughter, "I'm sure I've still got scars from trying such a thing myself."

Dean officially feels like a moron. All these accusations and assumptions running around in his head for no good reason at all. Cas will give him _that_ look when he tells him about it, Dean thinks to himself with a barely-contained sigh as he nods and smiles back as though he's not crippled with mortification.

"We'll see you later," Luke says, and Dean ignores the lingered look he gives him in favor of cursing his overactive imagination, waving as Luke disappears and heading inside in search of Cas.

* * *

"He is _looking_ at you."

Cas' growled out whisper hits the back of Dean's ear at just the wrong pitch—or the right one, but only when they're in less company. Dean looks up to catch Luke turning his head away as though he really has been looking in their direction and leans into Cas' side a little, winking when he turns his head.

"Like I even noticed," he says, dropping his hand down to squeeze through Cas' in reassurance.

"You noticed _earlier_ ," Cas grumbles, and Dean squeezes his hand again, dropping a loud kiss on his cheek and nudging a little firmer into his side.

"Yeah. And I _told_ you, so you wouldn't get worked up about it if he _was_ … you know—"

"Checking you out?" Cas suggests for him with an arch to his voice.

Dean reminds himself now is _not_ the time to be enjoying Cas' reaction. "Whatever, Cas. Like I've got eyes for anyone but you."

Cas pouts. Cas will deny it vehemently if Dean calls him on it but he _is_ pouting, enough for Dean to have to resist leaning in to kiss it off him.

"You want a drink?" he says instead with a discreet press of his palm against Cas' chest.

Cas nods in agreement still scowling at the back of Luke's head. But then his attention is caught by the twins running up to wrap themselves around him in greeting, and Dean backs away watching Cas' face light up as he tells them they both look very beautiful in their new clothes.

"Hey. You want a beer, Dean?" Jessica asks as he walks into the kitchen.

"Sure. I'll take one for Cas too. How's it going?"

"Oh," Jessica says with a tired laugh as she pulls two red plastic cups from a small stack at the back of the counter, "exhausted. Think I'm gonna sleep for a month after this."

"But the girls are enjoying themselves, right?" Dean asks, watching as Jessica pulls the tab on a can of beer and pours it into the waiting cups.

"So the kids think you're drinking some kind of soda," she tells him when she catches him looking. "And yeah, I think they're having a great birthday."

"Then. That's all that matters," Dean says, accepting the cups pushed into his hand.

"I have earned myself the biggest gin and tonic ever tonight when I eventually get them to bed."

"I'm sure you have," Dean agrees with a soft laugh, tilting the cups in thanks as he walks back out looking for Cas.

* * *

"So. Jess tells me you've got quite the business going for yourself here with cars."

Dean's sure Luke isn't really cornering him quite like he feels like he's doing, reminding himself he'd been paranoid earlier in the day.

"Uh… yeah. I guess. Kind of came out of nowhere really," he replies, glancing over Luke's shoulder to the other people stood around the yard and wondering if he might edge away from him to join them. 

"How so?"

"I fixed up a car. Then another. Then another one. Next thing I know, whole neighborhood's got my number," Dean adds with a laugh.

"I hear nothing but good things," Luke says, and okay, _that_ really looks like he's giving him the once over. Cas is no less than ten feet away somewhere in the house, and even if he wasn't this is more than inappropriate.

"Uh. Thanks," Dean says, looking around for Cas and half-wishing that he could still hear his prayers.

"I'm serious," Luke tells him, "Jessica can't stop singing your praises. And it takes a _lot_ to impress Todd."

Jessica's husband _is_ always a little stern-looking, Dean thinks, but only smiles politely, more aware of that tiny step Luke took towards him that is beyond too close.

"Uh—"

"I suck at anything to do with cars," Luke adds, and Dean takes a conscious pace back half-stepping in a plant pot making him curse under his breath.

"I kind of grew up fixing cars," Dean says as he takes a step to the side, reaching down to straighten up the pot and hoping he hasn't caused too much damage to the plant in it, knowing Cas will mumble about it at him if he has.

"You look—"

"Dean. There you are."

"Hey, Cas—"

Dean's relief at seeing him is kissed off his face as Cas launches himself at him, kissing him hard and a lot more thoroughly than is probably appropriate for the company just a foot away from them.

"Hello," Cas says with an uncharacteristic purr as he stretches against him, a huge smile on his face that doesn't quite reach his eyes. There's an entire other look there bordering on possessive that Dean swallows thickly for seeing, and moves as guided when Cas wraps his arm tight around his waist to pull him to his side.

"Hey, Cas. You've met—"

"Luke," Cas finishes for him looking Luke up and down in obvious distaste. "Yes. We've been introduced."

"Jessica was showing me the vegetable garden Cas set up for them," Luke says with a nonchalant smile like his presence isn't the thing leaving Cas quietly seething.

"Half the yards round here are thanks to Cas," Dean replies with a proud glance in Cas' direction.

"Yeah, I heard that," Luke agrees, "you two are… you're like everyone's favorite neighbors."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Dean says, shaking his head in dismissal. "We—"

"It is _Dean_ ," Cas says, just as proud as he squeezes him tighter into his side. "Dean is the person that almost everybody here comes to for advice, or help, or just to talk."

"Cas—"

"He is a most loyal friend. And neighbor. And _husband_ ," Cas adds pointedly, glaring Luke down.

Luke nods as though still unaffected, turning his head as he looks out over the grass. "Well. I'm gonna go find my nieces."

Dean watches him walk away feeling Cas' fingers still gripping firmly around his hip. "He's gone now."

"I noticed."

"You can… let go now," Dean adds with a soft laugh as he turns to look at him, catching the tail-end of Cas' scowl.

Cas studies his face thoroughly before leaning in for another kiss and nodding as he pulls away with a sigh, though his hand remains lingering on Dean's back.

"I'm sorry about Luke," Jessica says out of nowhere as she joins them, handing them both a second cup of beer as she watches Luke scoop up a giggling Kate and spin her around. "He's… sometimes he has some issues with… personal space."

Dean holds on to a burst of laughter as he nudges into Cas' side. "Yeah. I used to know a guy like that."


	32. A Weekend Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)
> 
> I know, you've already had an additional chapter about Josh Bilby, but this one is from a (sort of) different angle, and also sets up for another chapter that ticks off some more of the things on the list from the survey ;)

"And we lost contact when I came out of the army. And then everything happened with Marilyn, and—and _Josh_ , he was so small that we… that I didn't want to drag him around all over the place. And so we ended up here because I've got a friend in town that put us up, and then I found work and didn't want Josh to miss out on school, and—"

"Simon, man, can you like, breathe in between words?" Dean says, clapping him on the shoulder and squeezing until he receives a shaky sigh and nod in answer. "It's fine. Just… I mean, you don't have to tell me anything, but—"

"But if you're offering to look after _Josh_ —"

 _"Simon_ ," Dean says again, laughing a little this time and pointing to a stool at the kitchen counter for him to sit, "it's fine. Obviously, tell me whatever you want. But us having Josh here for the weekend is no problem at all. Cas is already upstairs setting him up a room."

Simon arrived in a fluster of panic less than ten minutes ago and hasn't stopped apologizing and explaining what's happening while making little sense at all ever since. Dean's got the gist of it, he thinks, and has finally learned that Simon's wife was called  _Marilyn_ , but doesn't really know the details of anything else.

"He is?" Simon asks as he sinks down on to the stool still half-dazed.

"Second we ended our call." 

"And you don't mind Josh coming here straight from school? And—and _Frohike_?" Simon asks, with both pleading and what Dean thinks is a touch of self-loathing on his face for having to ask.

"Not at all," Dean says, turning to the fridge and pulling out both a bottle of beer and a can of soda for Simon to choose from.

"And it's not interrupting your plans? This is so short notice, and I—"

" _Breathe_ ," Dean says, laughing, and once again waiting for Simon to calm enough to explain.

"He's… it's just, Josh was only little when he—"

"So let me get this straight," Dean says holding his hand up to ask him not to talk, hoping to make things easier for him. "Your uncle contacted you out of the blue, and you—"

"My cousin, actually," Simon says, accepting the can of soda and absently pulling at the tab. "I didn't… when I left the army there was… before I left, even, our family was so—I don't have the best history with my family."

"Sam's all I've got left," Dean says as he sinks down opposite and takes the can from Simon's hand thinking he might not ever get around to opening it in his current mood. "Mom too, of course, but she was… man, she was gone from my life longer than she's been here, you know? It took some time getting used to having her back, I can tell you."

"Back from where?" Simon asks as he takes the can back, eyeing him curiously enough for Dean to have to pause, and come up with a plausible explanation.

"It's… a long story."

"Yeah, families are like that," Simon agrees without pushing at all, absently taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah."

"So, anyway. My folks never really wanted kids, so my grandparents ended up raising me, and I guess all of them have been gone for... they're all gone. I didn't even find out I had an uncle, and a cousin, until I was twenty-one. A letter about a trust fund showed up out of nowhere that I guess must have been from my grandparents, and I… I didn't know I had any other family left."

"That's rough."

"It is. But we didn't really meet up too much, you know? A few awkward dinners and stuff, and they wrote to me when I was serving, but it's just… it's been strained. We don't really know each other. We never have."

"And your uncle's now sick and wants you to visit?" Dean asks, wondering how much of this Simon would have had time to tell Josh.

"My cousin. He says my uncle's not got long left and he wants his family around him. And it's… it's too much for Josh; I'm not dragging him to a hospital to see someone he doesn't even know going through I don't know what."

"No, I wouldn't wanna do that either," Dean tells him, turning as Cas makes his way down the stairs.

"But I also feel like I should at least visit my uncle," Simon adds with a frown. "And my cousin; it'll be good for Josh to know he has some family  _somewhere_ aside from me, even if I don't want him there in these circumstances. He's... Josh went through enough going to the hospital all the time when his mom got sick. I don't want to bring back any more of those memories for him than he's probably already got."

Dean smiles in answer thinking Simon is a far better father than he ever credits himself for being. 

"Thank you both so much for doing this," Simon says as Cas moves to stand next to Dean, draining the coffee he'd been drinking before Simon's call.

"Not at all. We would love to have Josh here," Cas tells him as he rests his hand on Dean's lower back.

"I haven't told him all that much," Simon says with a sigh, playing with his can of soda. "I only sent him a quick text. I got the call right after he left for school and I… I kind of need to go _now_ if I'm gonna get there before… well. I guess my uncle must be… he must be—"

"What do you want us to tell Josh?" Dean asks, because it's not his place to say anything Simon doesn't want him to.

"I should stay and talk to him," Simon says with his head in his hands looking so torn by his decision that Dean wishes there was more he could do to help.

"Why don't you go, and call him when you get there to explain. And we'll… I don't know, Simon. We can field questions or… what do you need?"

"I think… I'm gonna go by the school, get him out of class. Tell him to come here when he's got a bag together. Bring Frohike. Though he'll have to go back for food—"

"Unless Frohike has any specific dietary requirements we have ample food in our shed," Cas replies, waving his hand to dismiss Simon's concern.

" _Dietary requirements_?" Simon says with a fond laugh. "That dog is the most unfussing, easygoing dog I've ever met. Just… he'll eat anything, and everything."

"Then we're good," Dean says with a smile.

"He's been great for Josh," Simon adds turning a grateful smile on Cas.

"He behaves very well for Josh when I see them on walks together," Cas replies as he smiles back.

"Okay," Dean says, "well. You have our number. And Josh has our number. So we're good. And we'll keep in contact, okay?"

"Okay," Simon says still looking half-dazed as he drains his can of soda. "I… I can't tell you how grateful I am for this."

"Josh is very welcome here," Cas tells him again, smiling in reassurance.

There is a flurry of activity as Simon jumps down from his stool, hands over the empty can, drops his keys and scrambles about on the floor for them all while thanking them repeatedly and profusely. Cas and Dean wave him off in the doorway as he reverses his car out on to the street, leaning into one another as they watch him drive away.

"I should… maybe I'll go on a run now, get some food in," Dean says as they close the door, pulling Cas into the circle of his arms. "Want me to give you a lift?"

"Yes please," Cas replies with a soft kiss as he leans against him. "Though perhaps I should make my own way home from the library when I have finished so you can be here for when Josh arrives."

"That okay?"

"Of course," Cas tells him with a squeeze around his waist before stepping back. "And I would like burgers for dinner. Those ones you make with all the herbs and spices. I'm sure Josh will approve."

"Got it," Dean agrees with a nod, smiling that Cas has beat him to his question about food. "You ready to go?"

* * *

The knock on their front door is timid, and Dean jumps up from the couch having been waiting for it, tripping over the rug in the process and cursing under his breath.

"Josh. Hey," he says, swinging the door open in greeting and gesturing for Josh to come in, laughing when Frohike charges through already making himself at home.

Josh isn't quite as timid as he has been on previous visits but he still looks a _little_ nervous. And the bag slung over his shoulder is huge, like he's staying long past the weekend.

"That's—"

"I have homework," Josh says as Dean gestures to the bag then takes it from his shoulder to drop on the couch. "One essay, and a test on Monday for history."

"Okay—"

"Dad said I had to tell you when I got here so I couldn't _put it off_ ," Josh adds with an embarrassed smile as he unzips the bag and takes out a stack of books.

"Well. You wanna do it now before dinner or sometime over the weekend, or—"

"The essay now, I think," Josh says with a sigh, juggling the books as they slip from his arms.

"Okay, Maybe when Cas gets back—"

"Actually, it's about cars," Josh says, his smile becoming shy, and hopeful.

"Then, step into my office," Dean replies as he waves Josh towards the kitchen and taps on the stool behind the counter for him to sit on. "You want something to drink?"

As Dean makes burgers and answers Josh's questions for his essay, he learns that Josh is considering mechanical engineering for college in a few years, that their neighbor Tessa is now Josh's _best friend_ and not his _girlfriend_ , and that Simon embarrassed him at school earlier for the way he barged into his class. Josh also tells him that Simon's job is going really well, and they've spent the last couple months redecorating, which explains why every time Dean and Cas have seen Josh lately he's covered in paint.

"You still got your paper round, right, Josh?" Dean asks as they come back downstairs from showing Josh his room for the weekend.

"I do," Josh replies with a smile. "I… need to go in the morning, if that's okay."

"Not like we're giving you a curfew," Dean says with his hands raised up in defense. "Not that I'm saying you can go out to all hours, but—"

"No, I know," Josh replies with a smile, "I… it's... I'm happy to be spending the weekend here. Maybe I'll see Tessa too, but I... "

The shy way he drops his face still reveals the blush on his cheeks and adds to the thud in Dean's chest for how pleased he is Josh likes their company. Frohike is already asleep under the dining table no doubt laying in wait for dinner, and Dean is hit by a sense of _peace_ for a moment as he observes the scene in front of him.

Cas' arrival only adds to that feeling, walking straight through to the kitchen with a greeting for Josh, a kiss for Dean, and a pat for Frohike when he comes to investigate. Cas also steals a slice of the cheese Dean's cut for the burgers, spinning away before he can protest, and then is disappearing upstairs for a shower, winking over his shoulder as he goes.

Dean catches Josh smiling between the two of them and raises an eyebrow that Josh shrugs at as he goes back to his homework.

* * *

"He's a good kid," Dean says as he throws back the comforter for Cas to climb into bed.

"He is," Cas agrees as he settles, pressing an apologetic kiss to Dean's forehead when he jostles him and kicks him in the shin.

It's been a good day for the three of them—four, if they include Frohike. Dean and Cas walked Frohike on a leash as Josh had ridden his bike alongside them, separating at the store where he delivers his papers from as they made their way back home.

Cas got a lift to the library from Greg for his storytelling morning at the library, with Josh proudly sitting in the front passenger seat of the Impala on their way to pick Cas up. The three of them ate at Cas' favorite cafe before taking a drive for a couple of hours, and in the evening they made spaghetti together before marathoning Avengers movies until Josh had almost fallen asleep on the couch. Tessa came to join them for a couple of hours and even though he was sleepy and she only lives next door, Josh insisted on walking her home.

"I can't believe we spent that whole drive with you quizzing him on his history test," Dean adds with an affectionate squeeze around Cas' hip as they roll together.

"It is doubtful that he will forget anything now."

"That's 'cos you're the best storyteller ever," Dean tells him, crowding even closer and sweeping his hand up Cas' side to then settle between this shoulder blades.

"It is an effective method of remembering things," Cas replies, and there's a cute element of smugness in his tone when he says it that leaves Dean grinning, hiding his face in his pillow when Cas raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, it probably is," Dean agrees, leaning in for a kiss, then ducking and mumbling an apology as he yawns.

"We should sleep. Josh said he wanted to help me with the shed in the morning."

"Not too early, though, huh, Cas?" Dean protests as rolls back to switch his light off on the nightstand.

"No, not too early," Cas agrees, sighing out in relief as he settles on his pillow, the two of them whispering to each other until they fall asleep.

* * *

"My dad says he'll be back tonight around six," Josh announces when he rejoins Dean and Cas in the yard from receiving his call, sinking down where they're sprawled out with books.

"Maybe we can send you back with some food so no one has to cook. I'll do extra at lunch," Dean says, holding out a plate to Josh for him to take a cookie once he's settled. "Maybe some pie, too."

"What kind of pie?" Josh asks with his eyes lighting up, and if that doesn't make Dean smile. Josh and Simon have been to theirs for a dinner a few times, and whenever there's been pie Josh has scraped the plate clean.

"Apple. And we've got some blueberries to use up, haven't we, Cas?"

"We do."

"Then, apple and blueberry it is."

"Sounds good."

There's a comfortable silence between them interspersed only with the sound of turning pages or occasional sips of drinks. There's a soft breeze that keeps the edge off the heat of the sun, and whenever Dean looks up from his book he catches Cas watching the bees and butterflies hovering over his flowers with a pleased smile on his face. He leans over to squeeze his thigh calling Cas' attention and is rewarded with a smile of his own.

"My dad says you should come to ours. For dinner," Josh says then as he takes the last cookie from the plate and snaps it in half, feeding an already-waiting Frohike.

"Sure—"

"He says it's to say thank you for letting me stay," Josh adds, with a slight tinge of remorse in his voice.

"You're welcome here anytime, Josh," Cas tells him before Dean has the chance to.

"I know," Josh says after a pause, smiling at them both shyly.

"And whenever he wants we'll come over," Dean adds, knowing Simon's new promotion means his hours are a lot better so he's not working so many late nights as before.

"Maybe Tuesday or Wednesday," Josh says with a quick glance at Cas. "I know you work on Tuesday afternoons but—"

"I am typically home before five," Cas replies. "We would love to have dinner with you both, whenever you are ready."

Josh nods, and there's clearly something he's not telling them, but Dean doesn't want to prompt him.

"We can bring something over for dessert," he says, hoping to keep the tone neutral, but it makes Josh flush crimson and duck his head.

"Thank you."

"Josh—"

"My dad started following your Instagram," Josh blurts out, his mouth curling up into a pained smile.

"Oh," Dean says, not sure what he's supposed to say to that. He hasn't got  _that_ many followers but now he's trying to work out which one of them might be Simon. Dean makes a mental note to ask Cas later since he's become such an expert at that kind of thing.

"Everything you cook looks so _good_. It _is_ so good," Josh says, and Dean's pleased to hear it, but now thinks there might be a catch.

"Uh, thanks—"

"He said he wanted to cook something just as good for when you come over. But he can't cook. I mean, he _can_ ," Josh amends looking guilty, "but it's not like yours."

"Dean is an exceptional cook," Cas says as he turns an affectionate smile on him.

"Exactly," Josh says, exasperated, "my dad's just… he can't cook like _that_. And he's talking about doing all this fancy stuff for when you come over for dinner and—"

"Hey. Josh, it's okay," Dean says, both touched and wanting to put him at ease. "I only learned by trial and error, 'cos I had to. You should see some of the stuff I cooked me and Sam when we were growing up. I'll bet he's got some horror stories of things I made him eat."

"And we would be coming to spend the evening with you and your father, not to critique whatever he cooks. Which I'm sure will be delicious, whatever it is," Cas adds tactfully.

"Yeah, I guess," Josh says but it's still doubtful, and it makes Dean wonder what kind of meals Simon must have cooked for Josh to look so horrified at the thought.

Cas changes the subject again quizzing Josh on his history test, and Dean leans back on his elbows listening to them talk, occasionally joining in. He likes this, loves watching Cas talk and hearing all the stories about history he's only read about in books. And he loves seeing Cas' ease with Josh; Dean still gets a kick out of watching Cas with the kids in the library, watching the joy on his face when he's surrounded by them all vying for his attention.

Cas is so good with kids, and this weekend with Josh has made that even more apparent. Dean notices everything Cas does instinctively, the patient way he broaches difficult subjects and how easy it is for him to get Josh to speak. Josh even talked about his mother Marilyn for the first time, which was both difficult to hear and humbling that he would open up to them both like that.

Dean is still thinking about this long after Josh has gone home, they've tidied up after their weekend together, and are getting ready for bed.

"Hey, Cas."

Cas looks up as he settles back against the headboard, smiling as Dean walks towards him and perches on the edge of it next to his thigh. "Yes?"

"You ever think… you remember, ages ago now, when we… we said maybe about… if there were kids from… with hunting and stuff—"

"We spoke about offering our home to children of those affected by hunts," Cas replies, smiling as Dean stumbles over his words and reaching out to take his hand.

"Yeah. We did, Cas."

"Would you—"

"I'm not saying we should put an ad out in the papers or anything," Dean says as he plays with Cas' fingers, "but maybe… maybe if we put word out that we're willing. That if anyone needs a place then we… it was really good having Josh here all weekend, Cas."

Cas covers their hands with his free one apparently sensing the thoughts spiraling through Dean. It _has_ been good having Josh here; having someone to care for in an environment where they have everything they need to do that properly, and having Cas there to do that caring with him. It's brought back memories of raising Sam that Dean hasn't dwelt too much on for all the things he wishes he could have changed about their situation, but it's also stirred up some good ones that he wouldn't be without.

"Then we should… _put word out_ ," Cas says, doing his air quotes against Dean's hands because he knows Dean smiles whenever he uses them.

"We should, huh?" Dean says, leaning in to kiss him, and laughing when Cas grips him around the waist to turn so he's straddling his lap.

"Yes. We should," Cas repeats, sliding his fingers beneath Dean's t-shirt and squeezing, "though, in the morning."


	33. Christopher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

"I see your assistant is back."

Dean nods to the cat sat a couple of feet away from where Cas is working on his garden when Cas looks at him and uses the moment to his advantage by handing him a drink.

"I think he is inspecting my work," Cas says as he takes the glass of iced tea Dean's carefully made by hand to include all the things that Cas likes.

The words register for Dean but he's too busy watching the way Cas chugs the glass back telling himself he _isn't_ fixating on his chin tilted back and his eyes closed in bliss against the bright afternoon sun. Cas, of course, is aware of him watching, holding the glass out for a refill with a smug smile on his face.

"Yeah, I think he might be," Dean agrees when he snatches his eyes away to look back at the cat. "Sure looks like he's judging you for something, anyway."

Since the cat has become such a regular visitor Cas has given it a name—Shiraz—in honor of the first evening the cat had come to them and knocked over a thankfully-empty wine bottle when winding between them for attention. Shiraz is clearly not without a home for his glossy fur and well-fed belly, yet he shows up at their shed two or three times a week never turning down a treat.

Shiraz turns his disapproving gaze on Dean for a moment before looking back at the soil as though demanding Cas get back to his task. Dean can't help laughing for the look on the cat's face as Cas throws down the shovel he's using, but the laugh comes to a stop when Cas lifts his shirt over his head to throw that down as well.

"You do that on purpose," Dean says when he's finished looking over him, circling his finger in the air for Cas to know to turn around.

"I was hot," Cas retorts, but is laughing half-under his breath as Dean presses a kiss to his shoulder blade and hugs him from behind for a second before pulling back.

"Uh huh," is all Dean answers with, putting the jug of iced tea on the ground and pulling a tube of sunblock from his back pocket. He takes his time to rub it in, perhaps far longer than Shiraz approves of for the look he keeps giving him, and steals a kiss when he's done before gesturing at the house.

"Is Christopher still sleeping?" Cas asks as he snags and squeezes Dean's fingers.

"Yeah. Flat out still. His temperature's coming down though, slowly."

"That is something," Cas says with a soft sigh and his expression becoming more thoughtful.

"Don't worry, Cas," Dean says with a kiss to his cheek, "it's not that bad. If we can get him to sleep it off he'll be fine in a day or so."

"He only ate a few mouthfuls of soup for lunch."

"I know, but it's better than nothing. Sammy used to go days on similar when he had a fever," Dean adds in an attempt to reassure him. 

Christopher is five years old, recently orphaned, and was brought to them just three nights ago with a fever, by hunters who found him cowering in the corner of his home after a vampire attack. His expression is permanently startled, seeming to be torn between wanting to back away from the unfamiliar faces that are Dean and Cas and rushing forward for the hugs he so desperately needs.

He hasn't said a word to either of them yet and Dean understands it, relates to Christopher's silence in so many ways. They have tried to find out if Christopher has any other family but so far all they've come up with is an aunt down in Texas who is heavily pregnant and apparently not in any fit state to travel. They've discussed driving Christopher down to her but she seems reluctant, so have agreed to take it day by day, not wanting to make any decisions until Christopher is better.

"I suppose much of it is trauma," Cas adds with a sigh, and Dean leans in for another kiss to soothe him knowing Cas has barely slept since Christopher arrived. Christopher is only the second child they've welcomed into their home temporarily, but he's wormed his way into both their hearts thoroughly already despite not having said a word.

"Probably, Cas," Dean agrees, "all we can do is look out for the little guy."

"We are doing all that we can," Cas says, and again there's a hint of needing reassurance in his voice that Dean gives with another kiss.

"We are," Dean agrees, "and I'm gonna go check on him now. Don't stay out too long, okay?"

Cas nods, accepting a third glass of iced tea before Dean picks up his shirt to throw into the laundry and heads back inside.

* * *

"Is that your Mom?" Dean asks, pointing out the stick figure with the curly hair as Christopher draws at their dining table.

Christopher hums in response, his tongue jutting out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates, drawing, to Dean's horror, what looks like a pair of fangs sticking into her neck. That Christopher saw both his parents attacked by vampires isn't going to be anything he forgets anytime soon, and Dean wishes there was a simple way to help him with it. But drawing seems to be a good distraction, along with trailing Cas when he's working in the shed or sitting at the counter when Dean prepares food, so they happily supply him with all the paper and crayons he might need in the hope it helps him express himself if he can't yet say anything out loud.

They got a smile yesterday when Cas made a smiley face out of ketchup on his plate, and Christopher sits riveted in bed when Cas reads him a story before sleep—with Dean leaning in the doorway just as riveted. He's been with them a little over a week, still wide-eyed and traumatized everywhere he looks. But Christopher has also become a little calmer, and seems to trust them both a little more.

Christopher looks up at Dean then with a quizzical expression, shoving the paper he's covering in crayon to one side and taking another piece. In minutes, there's a picture of Dean making what he thinks is pizza as Cas stands beside him holding both his hand and a cat.

"Is that us?" Dean asks, pointing the figures out with a lump in his throat that he tries to convince himself isn't there. He receives a nod in answer, watching as Christopher furiously scribbles to color both the cat and pizza in.

"You are very good," Cas announces as he comes to join them, head tilting as he studies Christopher's drawing with a smile. Christopher looks up at him with a tiny smile of his own that Dean catches Cas' eye for, watching the way it lights up his face.

"You want pizza for dinner, huh, Christopher?" Dean asks, wondering if he's supposed to be taking a hint.

Christopher beams at him giving Dean his answer, before he goes back to drawing.

* * *

"I think she likes you, Christopher," Cas says as Christopher carefully cradles the orange kitten in his arms and looks up at Cas as though checking he's doing it right.

Dean crouches down so he's at eye height with Christopher, raising his hand to stroke a finger over the kitten's head. "She's tiny."

"Floss."

Dean looks up at Cas in alarm for Christopher's outburst catching the tiny shake of his head. "Floss?"

"My cat," Christopher says, his voice soft with awe for the tiny bundle in his arms.

"You… had a cat at home? I mean… before?"

Christopher nods, and another wave of misplaced guilt hits Dean for a cat out in the world without a home.

"Where's this one going, Cas?" Dean asks softly watching Christopher as he raises the kitten up to eye level and smiles.

"Greg's sister is coming for her in a couple of weeks."

"And the others?" Dean asks, gesturing towards the cat and her three remaining kittens.

"I don't know yet. But I think one of my colleagues from the library is interested."

"We'll have them in new homes in no time," Dean says with a smile.

"Do you want to come to the library with me tomorrow, Christopher?" Cas asks, crouching down so he too is at eye level to smile at Christopher's shy nod. It's good for Christopher to go to the library with Cas and at least  _be_ with other kids even if he's a little too shy to speak to them yet. He sits to one side mesmerized by every word Cas says, gasping in all the right places and letting out the most adorable giggles when he hears something funny. Last time he even shared some of his sliced apple with a little girl who'd dropped her own over the library floor. Dean had teared up watching for just how proud he felt.

"Ice cream," Christopher says as he reaches out to tug on Cas' hand when they put the kitten back with the others.

"Of course," Cas replies. There is a small ice cream parlor not too far from Cas' library where they took Christopher last week. He'd been so sleepy afterward that Dean had picked him up and carried him back to the Impala, and the soft look Cas had given him when Christopher had burrowed his way into his neck as they walked he was still smiling about hours later.

They've got about ten words out of Christopher so far, and these few strung together in the last few minutes are the most he's spoken at once since arriving. He usually expresses himself with a nod or shake of his head, and if he's uncertain, or shy, or doesn't know what to say then he's started tucking himself into either of their sides and holding on until whatever is going through his mind has passed.

Dean doesn't want to push him to talk, and aside from his lack of words is sure Christopher is doing okay. Though he has seen Cas searching for advice online trying to find every way he can to help. It's been a steep learning curve for both of them, but a rewarding one for the way they curl up together once Christopher is asleep excitedly talking about everything they've done with him that day.

"So. Playground?" Dean suggests, smiling as Christopher looks up at him. "We said we'd walk Albus today. Wanna take him to the park?"

Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson already adore Christopher, with them and all their neighbors accepting Dean's explanation that they are fostering him for a few weeks without question. They already have a cookie or piece of cake waiting for him whenever they visit, and Albus follows him with a constant wagging tail in case he drops crumbs.

Christopher nods vigorously and reaches out for Dean's hand, still holding on to Cas', and together they carry him out of the shed into the yard, with Christopher squealing in delight for being swung between their arms.

* * *

It's been two months. They've got used to their routine with Christopher, with him slotting into their lives as though he could belong. And he probably could, if they wanted him to; Dean's already dreading the moment they have to make the decision to either keep him with them indefinitely or find him another home somewhere free of any trace of hunting. It's something they avoid talking about and keep putting off.

 _Their_ lives are mostly free of hunting now. It's been months since they've been called to go anywhere, and even then it was a last minute decision when another hunter had got sick. Their lives are stable, and homely, the exact conditions in which Dean would be happy to raise a child. But there is always the risk of _something_ being needed from them, and he and Cas have spent many a sleepless night weighing up the pros and cons.

Cas smiles at him as he walks down the stairs, pressing a kiss to the back of Dean's neck as he passes with an armful of laundry that he tucks into the basket before coming back to drape his arms around Dean's waist.

"What are you making?"

"Thought I'd make a quiche for tomorrow. We've got so much broccoli from your garden, and the only way _Christopher's_ eating any of it is if it's with cheese. Kinda fits."

"He wanted us to read The Giving Tree again," Cas adds with a smile as he kisses Dean's shoulder and gestures at his beer bottle asking if he wants another.

"Dammit. I knew I should've come up," Dean calls over his shoulder earning himself a soft laugh.

"Well. No doubt he will want to hear it again tomorrow, or the next day. I'm sure you can listen then."

"Yeah," Dean agrees, hit with a blast of feeling wistful at the thought of how many more days they'll get to have like this.

"Dean. We need to decide what to do," Cas says with soft urgency as he sinks down on the stool opposite where Dean is working. This has been playing on both their minds individually and together, and Dean's glad one of them has finally voiced the subject a little louder. 

"Yeah. I know."

"If he stays with us any longer then we need to find a way to make it _official_ ," Cas adds. "Identity, paperwork, a medical history."

Dean pauses from preparing the quiche to take a swig of his beer and sighs as the constant wall of questions about what to do with Christopher fly at him. "And if he's staying, we need to get him into a school. Maybe get him some… I don't know, Cas. He's talking now, but… after what he's seen, do we need to get him to talk to someone else? Someone professional?  _Can_ we? We let him anywhere near some kinda child psychologist and he starts talking about vampires—"

"I am sure we will think of something if we decide to keep him here," Cas says, reaching out to squeeze his hand in reassurance.

"What do we do, Cas?" Dean says, dropping down on to his forearms against the counter and toying with his beer.

"That his aunt hasn't shown any interest at all is... repugnant," Cas adds, a quiet fury narrowing his eyes. "I suppose she has her own child to consider, but—"

"Seems cold turning away your own blood. He's just a _kid_ ," Dean says, loathing the idea of Christopher, or any child being abandoned for the sake of convenience. Christopher's aunt stopped answering their calls after the first few days of him arriving, and their unreturned voicemails have turned into a dead tone whenever they try to call, leaving Dean assuming she must have changed her number.

"Yes. Though I suppose we don't know the circumstances—"

"Doesn't mean we forgive them for it."

"Which does nothing to help _Christopher_ ," Cas points out with an affectionate smile.

"No. You're right, it doesn't. But I can't help feeling like… if Sam and Eileen… if anything happened to them—and I'm not _asking_ for anything to happen—but we'd take their kids in a heartbeat. When they get round to having them, of course."

"We would," Cas agrees, and Dean knows there's nothing else he needs to say about this, doesn't want to talk himself in circles.

"So. I mean… what do _you_ want to do, Cas?"

"Dean. I want whatever is best for Christopher. If it is us—"

"It _could_ be us. Couldn't it?" Dean says, hearing the pleading in his own voice and not doing anything to try to disguise it.

"It could be. If we are both ready for it."

Dean's stomach knots and he pushes back from the counter, gripping around its edge for support. "You… you mean you're not? Ready for—"

"I didn't say that," Cas says with a shake of his head and a smile, patting the space next to him for Dean to sit. "I just meant, we need to decide on this together. Decide what is good for us, and good for Christopher."

"He likes us though, right, Cas?" Dean says as he sits down next to him, tangling their hands together. "I mean—"

"He _does_ like us," Cas agrees with a proud smile. "He seems… more confident. _Happier_ , than when he arrived."

"Hard not to be after what happened to him."

"Yes."

"But I mean. Are we… could we be good parents, Cas? I mean, to him?" Dean asks, his mind already whirring with the possibilities.

"I think we could. But would he choose us if he had a choice?" Cas asks with a sigh, playing with his beer bottle against the counter. "Would he be better off with someone else who has no ties to hunting whatsoever?"

"It's not like we can drop him off at the Fergusons and say, _hey, we're just taking off to stop an apocalypse, be back soon_."

"That would take a _lot_ of explaining," Cas retorts, and the dry tone of it is enough to break through Dean's worrying and make him smile.

"Yeah. It would."

"But is it worse to move him on to another family when he's just got settled here? Or is it better to do it now before we all get too attached to one another?"

"Already a little late for that, Cas," Dean replies, and he can see the same sentiment echoed back in Cas' eyes.

"This isn't about what we want for us, Dean," Cas tells him then as he leans into his side. "We have to decide what is best for Christopher."

"If we didn't… if we were just _this_ ," Dean says, gesturing around them, "without any of the… if we were just Cas who works in the library and gardens, and Dean who fixes cars… we'd be enough, right, Cas? I mean. As parents."

"I think so. In fact, I know we would."

"So…"

"It should be his decision. He should have the choice, Dean. But he's—"

"Five. And he's… we don't have another option for him yet."

"But should that be a good enough reason for us to keep him?" Cas asks, and he has a point, but their options are so limited, and if they wait too long for a possible new home for him then it will be even harder to say goodbye.

"What do we do, Cas?" Dean sighs, turning so they can lean together more comfortably and asking the question into Cas' neck. "What do we do?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! What do we think they should do with Christopher?!


	34. Paperwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>   
> 
> 
>  
> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :)
> 
> Okay this chapter is mostly for dmsilvis, thank you for your input in this and also for cheerleading this story so hard :) (and thank you, unraveledwords, for your input too, it helped shape this chapter!)
> 
> Things to note about this addition: I know very little about kids, and the only adoption I know about was relatively straightforward, so this chapter is possibly a little whimsical :) but hey, this is fanfic, and I'll be damned if these two don't get to have nice things!

 "Dean. Stop pacing."

Dean pivots at the insistent growl in Cas' voice and catches the barista eyeing him in amusement as he passes, returning to their table to sink down in a chair with a scraping thud.

"You are making me even more nervous," Cas adds even as he slides his hand across the table to clasp on to Dean's.

"Sorry, Cas."

"I know we're both nervous. And I also know that—"

"Please don't say everything'll be okay, Cas. We can't jinx this—"

"Dean—"fa

"And I know it's stupid thinking like that, but I can't help _thinking_ that—"

" _Dean_ —"

"But what are the chances that—"

Cas' final attempt to keep him quiet is to lean across the table and kiss him, and Dean is distracted enough to forget both where they are, and what they're waiting for. Until a small hand tugs on his arm to get his attention and he pulls back with a start to find Christopher smiling at him.

"Hey, Buddy."

Christopher smiles a little wider and leans into Dean's side, before charging around the table to do the same to Cas.

"Christopher. Why don't you play for a little while so I can talk to Dean and Cas?"

Dean watches Christopher press a little tighter against Cas as he looks up at his therapist Loren, who he's been with for the last forty-five minutes in her office. Cas mumbles something to him that makes him giggle, and once Cas has kissed him on the forehead Christopher goes charging across the cafe to a play area, immediately picking up a toy black truck.

"How is he?" Cas asks the moment Loren sits down, the anxious look on his face matching what's churning in Dean's own chest.

"Relax. Both of you," she insists, gesturing to a passing waiter for coffee. "He's doing great."

Dean watches Loren pull out a stack of paperwork from her bag and begin to sort through it against their table, with all of them jumping up the moment their social worker Monica walks in.

"He's looking good," Monica says with a smile as they all turn at the same time to look at Christopher as he plays.

"Yeah. He is," Dean agrees, trying to smile easier than he's feeling. Being on edge around their _social worker_ is all kinds of counterproductive and pointless, he knows that, but still lives in perpetual fear of messing this up.

"How was today?" Monica asks Loren as she slides the papers across to her, tapping against the edge of the page as she reads.

"Great. He's turning into a complete charmer," Loren says with a soft laugh, "it's almost impossible to recognize the little boy who barely spoke a word when we first met."

"You've done wonders with him. Truly." 

Dean preens at Monica's praise and catches Cas doing the same, both of them noticing they're doing it and looking away in embarrassment.

"So you can unclench. Both of you," Monica adds with a smile that has Cas averting his eyes elsewhere and Dean grabbing at the back of his neck. "This is just an informal meeting to check where we are with everything."

These  _sessions_ for Christopher with Loren have become an integral part of their lives, and though Dean had been suspicious in the beginning it's easy to see how good they are for him. They've developed a routine, tried to keep Christopher's time away from school to a bare minimum, and even invented a few new car games to play on the drive over to keep him from getting bored. Monica's office is also close by, so whenever it's possible they try to plan any meetings they have for the same day to cause the least disruption. This cafe feels a bit like a second home to Dean for how many times he and Cas have sat here waiting, their stomachs in knots and braced for news.

"It's just that there have been so many of these meetings," Cas says, with Dean recognizing the exasperation in his voice even as he tries to keep it in. It's true, Dean thinks, resonating with that same frustration, this process is taking  _months_. Not that Christopher isn't worth every minute of it, but—

"I know," Monica agrees, her lips pursed in sympathy. "But this process is complicated for a reason. We have to make sure everything is in order for Christopher's sake."

"Of course. We get that," Dean agrees, arguing with himself to sit still. "It's just so much more _paperwork_ than either of us are used to, is all."

"And you're both doing fine," Loren assures them with Monica nodding in agreement.

"All I want to do today is go through all this paperwork with you so we can work out what else we have left to do," Monica adds, pulling out what Dean thinks is a tick sheet with their _case number_ printed at the top.

In that paperwork Dean knows there is the consent form eagerly signed by Christopher's aunt after the adoption agency tracked her down as his only surviving relative, as well as Christopher's birth certificate and other documents that Sam and Eileen went back to his house to find not long after Christopher had come to stay with him and Cas. There are background checks completed on both Dean and Cas that, with the help of Charlie, have made their pasts look far more saintlike than they really are. There might have been a few _tweaks_ to the system that Dean's had his heart in his throat for throughout this entire process in case Charlie's typical magic didn't work. He wishes there was a way to do the whole thing honestly, but there isn't, not with all he's done as a hunter and for Cas being a former angel.

There are character references from several of their neighbors that made Dean and Cas tear up for reading when they'd been given copies. Financial records that show them to be a hell of a lot more stable than Dean had ever imagined would be possible. There's the paperwork from their PS-MAPP training, full medicals for the three of them, and their documented home studies that Dean and Cas have lost a lot of sleep over for trying to make everything perfect.

Also amongst that paperwork are the write-ups of each of Christopher's visits to Loren, a therapist who has ties to the hunting community after helping an old friend of Donna's. Christopher is speaking more, laughing harder, and carving his place in their world. He's made friends with the kids in their neighborhood and has fitted right in at school; Dean and Cas couldn't be prouder of him for all that he's done.

"Will it take much longer?" Cas asks as Monica works through the stack.

"Not too much, hopefully," she replies, waving away the offer of coffee as Loren quickly gulps down hers.

They all look up and pause from further discussions of Christopher as he comes back to wriggle his way on to Dean's lap for help with a shoelace before running away to play again.

"The main thing is that Christopher is happy, and settled," Monica says, smiling as she watches him go. "You're giving him everything he needs."

"We are?" Dean asks once Loren's finished signing some of the papers Monica is skimming through. He reaches out for Cas' hand again as they watch, since they both need the anchor.

"Yes," Loren insists with a softer smile. "You couldn't have a more content little boy over there."

The four of them turn again just as Christopher is holding out a yellow car for a little girl that's come to join him, also offering her a shy smile.

"So. Does he know about… you know. The adoption thing?" Dean asks. "I mean, we've talked to him about it a bunch of times, using all the techniques you said so we wouldn't overwhelm him."

"I am certain that he understands," Cas adds to back up Dean's words. Dean has a moment of attempting to see things from Loren's perspective, two eager would-be parents staring back at her as though she has all the answers.

"He does," Loren agrees, "we talked, we drew, went through some play therapy. He keeps drawing out your house, and the yard, and all these animals you're fostering—"

"Is that a problem?" Cas asks with a nervous look at Monica, squeezing Dean's hand a little tighter as though fearing he's done something wrong.

"Not at all," Monica assures him, checking another page from her list.

"I suspect he has some ideas about having some more permanent pets as well as those you're fostering," Loren adds, "but other than that, no, I don't think you have anything to worry about. He seems to be enjoying the little responsibilities you're giving him with helping to feed all your _visitors_."

"He has his own scoop and a little step because the tub's almost as tall as he is and he can't reach all the way to the bottom without it," Dean adds, thinking of the bright orange scoop Christopher picked out himself.

"I think he wants chickens," Loren whispers conspiratorially.

Cas is already planning it out, Dean knows that look. But Dean, in turn, is already a designing a coop for them so knows he has no room to talk.

"We'll… see what we can do."

"Christopher tells me that you're talking about decorating his room when everything's official," Loren adds, picking up a pad and paper and scanning over some notes Dean assumes she must have just made in Christopher's _session_.

"Is that… I mean, shouldn't we do that? Does that sound like some kind of bribe?"

Dean's worried over everything. He's worried they're not doing enough, that they're doing too much, and half the time he's losing sleep because he thinks maybe he's not good enough. If it wasn't for Cas constantly reassuring and sharing those same fears with him, Dean doesn't know what kind of state he'd be in by now. Not that he'd want to be doing any of this without Cas by his side, of course.

"It's a good thing," Loren replies, "he's already told me he's looking forward to getting his new stars."

"He likes those glow in the dark things," Dean says, squeezing Cas' fingers.

"We have an entire constellation in progress on the ceiling directly above his bed," Cas adds.

Dean hides a smile for the _conversation_ they'd had about said constellation, for Cas wanting to make it _accurate_ and Christopher… not.

"You're doing everything right," Loren tells them with a reassuring smile for them both before glancing around the cafe to make sure no one is listening. "He's not speaking of any traumas or anything at all that I'd be concerned about."

By _trauma_ Loren means _vampires_ ; as far as Christopher's records are concerned his parents were killed in a freak accident involving a wild animal. Dean tries not to look suspicious when he glances over to see Monica's reaction, averting his eyes immediately the second she looks up. 

"What about his parents?" Cas asks, and Dean immediately squeezes his hand for it.

Cas has worried about that even more than Dean has himself. The thought of Christopher missing his parents and that being one of the few things they truly can't give him is a horrible feeling when their purpose of late has veered to trying to give Christopher the world.

"So far, that doesn't seem to be anything too concerning for him. There is no guarantee that it won't come up for him in the future, and there are techniques and strategies you may need to consider if he does begin to talk about them at some point. But at the moment—"

"Does he understand they're… _gone_?" Dean asks, knowing Cas has planned a hundred ways over to try to answer any questions Christopher might have.

"He understands enough. He understands they can't come back, and more importantly, I think, he understands that them being gone is not his fault in any way."

Dean's stomach knots for the thought of Christopher ever blaming himself for anything, and catches Cas' eye knowing he's doing the same.

"And, uh… does he… does he talk about _us_?"

"Of course he talks about you," Loren says with a warm smile. "He adores you. Both of you. His only concern at the moment is this _celebrating dad's_ thing they're doing at school that he's trying to figure out if he should do one card for the both of you, or one each."

Dean hadn't even considered Christopher and the other kids making cards in class for this thing that Christopher's been chattering about non-stop for the past week. But now Loren's put the idea in his head Dean's tearing up for the possibility of it, and Cas looks stunned. He'd lean across the table and kiss the look off his face if Loren and Monica weren't sat there with them.

"We should… uh… we should—"

"He wants to be with you," Loren says a little softer, apparently catching the emotion in their eyes. "He already talks about living with you as though he doesn't want to be anywhere else."

"We did take him in when he _had_ nothing else," Cas points out because that's yet another concern for them both. Does Christopher want to be with them because he doesn't have any other options, or does he genuinely want to be with _them_?

"That's true. But he's happy with you."

"Yeah, well—"

"His school records already indicate he's thriving," Monica adds, searching through her stack of papers and tapping her finger over a page Dean recognizes the header of for being from Christopher's school. "According to this his teachers are happy with his performance and progress, and he's integrated well with his class. Takes part in everything."

"He comes home with stacks and stacks of paintings, and drawings," Dean says, thinking of their fridge covered in fridge magnets holding each of them up.

"Yes, he really does enjoy that. It's something we work with together," Loren tells them, turning a smile on them both.

"We even... when he draws his parents, we... we attempt to talk to him about it. To help him understand," Cas adds, again looking at Loren for guidance.

"I think that's really important for him. That he knows he can freely talk about them with you whenever he wants," Loren agrees, and Dean is sure there's a hint of pride in her smile for  _them_.

"He's good. At painting, drawing, all of it," Dean says with pride, thinking of the closet he's made for all of Christopher's art supplies, and how it's rare a day goes by without him or Cas sneaking more things into it.

"What are our next steps?" Cas asks as he shifts in his seat impatiently.

"There is a little more paperwork to deal with—"

"More?" Dean asks with a wave at everything they have already submitted.

"I'm afraid so," Monica replies, "but not too much more. One final home visit from me. And there should only be a few more signatures required from you both on a couple of outstanding documents."

"Anything you need us to sign now?" Dean asks as Monica gathers up her papers and prepares to leave.

"Not at this stage. But I will call you over the next few days to schedule that visit."

Dean and Cas stand to say goodbye to Monica, then sit back down and turn to Loren, who laughs for how intently they're both leaning towards her.

"Anything else we need to do?" Dean asks. "That we  _can_ be doing?"

"Well. I would recommend that you speak to Christopher," Loren says, sitting back a little to study them, which puts Dean on edge.

"About?"

"Dean. I know you want to adopt Christopher. And I know that Christopher wants to be with you. But from the sound of things you… have you even asked him that for yourself?"

"We didn't… we didn't know if we should do that," Dean replies, taking his turn to shift in discomfort.

"Why not?"

"Because. Isn't it… I don't know. Isn't he a little young to be asked something like this?"

Dean knows he isn't, not really, but can't help reflecting on all _he_ went through at Christopher's age. He can't bear the thought of Christopher experiencing any second of a subject that's too much for him to deal with, even if he knows he has to let it happen.

"It's a big deal, Dean," Loren says, "as is any difficult subject you'll have to deal with in the future. Are you planning on avoiding difficult conversations with Christopher until he's twenty-one?"

"Well. _No_ , but—"

"He's smart," Loren says with a smile, "and he's confident. He told me you talked him through making pizza, and planting beets, and changing oil—"

"I didn't… I wasn't sure he was really paying attention to any of that. I just thought he—"

"He listens to every single thing you tell him. Both of you," Loren says with another smile. "He's like a sponge; in the last session he told me the recipe for the perfect pie crust," Loren adds with a laugh, "aside from the _candy_ he insisted on that I _think_ was an embellishment."

"That—"

"Just _talk_ to him," Loren insists, smiling as Christopher begins to make his way back to their table and sits himself down in the spare seat next to Dean looking at the three of them expectantly.

"Would you like to eat here, Christopher?" Cas asks, receiving a wide-eyed nod. "Should we wash your hands?"

Christopher slides from his seat again and follows Cas to the bathroom with Dean and Loren watching them go.

"He doesn't… he talks with us when we're on our own, and has a ton of friends at school. And he talks with _you_ when you're in these _sessions_. But he never speaks in front of the three of us," Dean says, telling himself he's worrying over nothing.

"Of course," Loren replies and adds no further explanation, which Dean isn't happy with but can do nothing about.

"So. How much longer do you think?"

"I'd say another four to six weeks tops. I know this feels like forever—"

"Oh, it feels like longer than that—"

"But everything is going really well. You're doing all the right things. Christopher is _happy_."

"That's the most important thing in all of this," Dean says with a small smile for Cas as he and Christopher make their way back.

"He's happy with _you_ ," Loren says again a little firmer as she gathers up her paperwork. "And if you _ask_ him that, you'll know that."

* * *

" _Tree! Ladybug! Dinosaur!_ "

Christopher's laughter is triumphant as he throws down his final card and scoops everything up from the pile on the table, dancing on his chair where he's sat.

"Alright. You win again," Dean says with a burst of laughter, leaning across the table for a clammy high five that Christopher then replicates with Cas.

"I am still confused about what this is supposed to be," Cas says, picking up the disc-shaped card and squinting as he studies it.

"Which one?" Christopher says, clutching Cas' arm and leaning into him to look.

"This one."

"Winky hand," Christopher tells him, demonstrating with his own.

"I see," Cas says with that solemn tone that Dean loves hearing so much. "And this one?"

Dean has to assume it's the _bomb_ image on the Spot It card for the way Christopher puts his hands together and pulls them apart with an imploding sound.

"Of course."

"You want some more juice, Christopher?" Dean asks as Christopher shoves his hand in the almost-empty bowl of popcorn on the table and then in his mouth. He gets an, _uh huh_ in answer, and stands to watch as Christopher tucks into Cas' side, with Cas gathering all their cards together and shuffling them into a pile without jostling him.

"I would also like some _juice_ ," Cas says, grabbing Dean's hand in passing and squeezing.

Having Christopher has meant the typical wine and beer they have in the evenings with dinner have migrated into mugs and opaque glasses kept well out of Christopher's reach. It's also meant Dean having to lose his habit of abbreviating names. Cas is still _Cas_ , of course, but Christopher insists on being called nothing less. One slip up with _Chris_ had earned them one of Christopher's few tantrums since being with them. Loren says it's because _Chris_ is something he associates with his mom and dad, and wants to keep that separate from _them_.

"So. Do we need to practice for your spelling bee?" Dean asks on his way back in from the kitchen, grabbing the list of words from the noticeboard they've stuck to the side of the fridge.

"I know _everything_ ," Christopher insists, proceeding to prove that point by spelling every single word on the list perfectly first time.

"Awesome."

" _Two_ stickers," Christopher adds holding up two fingers to show them both.

"That's right," Dean agrees, sneaking a quick look at Cas and seeing his amusement. "Two stickers."

"I think this _reward system_ is rewarding for more than one of us," Cas says half-under his breath.

He might have a point; telling Christopher that the Star Wars sticker book he has is also a reward sticker book means Dean gets as much enjoyment out of Christopher's rewards as he does. Every time he comes home from school with a good report or praise in his journal from his teachers another sticker is added, with the promise of a choice of toys once the book is full.

"I think maybe you'll be all filled up in about two weeks," Dean adds as Cas begins to deal out the Spot It cards again.

"Can I get an Avengers one next time?"

"Uh… sure," Dean says, now avoiding Cas' eyes altogether for the _discussion_ they'd had on why Star Wars was age-appropriate for Christopher when Avengers was not.

"And then after that a _dinosaur_ one," Christopher says, humming as he rolls his cards along the table and almost scatters them everywhere in the process.

Dean nods and tells his stomach it isn't knotting in excitement at the thought of a long stretch of _reward sticker books_ that Christopher is planning, and what other long-term things that means.

Loren's advice has been playing on Dean and Cas' mind ever since their last appointment, and though it's been two weeks they still haven't quite got around to asking Christopher that question about him wanting to stay with them. Dean's eyes linger over their joint card that's a glittery mess they're never moving from the window sill and smiles, wondering how much of that glitter will make it down the wall by the time Monica comes for their final home visit.

They've both tried, and failed, and laughed together about how their inability to _talk_ has now shifted from conversations between them, and on to difficult ones with their  _son_. Then become misty-eyed for _that_ word and sat smiling about it for hours. But the look Cas is giving him now says this is another moment for them to try, so Dean takes a sip of his _juice_ for courage and clears his throat.

"So, uh, Christopher. You like it here with us, right?"

"Yes," Christopher says with a nod, though his eyes are still on his cards.

"And you know that this is your home. Right?" Dean adds, cursing himself for not finding these words any easier for how many times he's rehearsed saying them.

"I live here," Christopher says, rolling his cards into the bowl of popcorn and making crashing sounds.

"Yes, you do," Cas tells him, with a nervous glance at Dean that says he's also been rehearsing what he wants to say. "And you know that… that we are very happy that you are part of our family now."

"When Sam and Eileen have babies, I'll be their cousin."

Dean swears his heart stops. "That's right. You will be."

"Can I call Sam _Uncle Sam_?" Christopher asks staring back at Dean intently. Dean's adamant there isn't a lump in his throat.

"Uh… I think he'd like that."

"Eileen showed me the word for _auntie_ ," Christopher tells them, mimicking something Dean presumes is ASL.

"That's… that's _good_."

"And she showed me how to say _this_ ," Christopher adds, making another shape that he does a little more enthusiastically, showing it to each of them in turn.

"And, uh, what does that mean?" Dean asks, glancing to Cas for guidance and catching tears in his eyes, immediately reaching across the table and grabbing his hand. "Cas?"

"It, uh... it means _dad_."

Cas' voice comes out scratchy, and his lip is trembling even as he smiles.

"Jason says that I should have different names for you," Christopher says then, frowning as he toys with his stack of cards.

"Different?" Cas asks, a rod of tension straightening his spine.

"Yes," Christopher says, gesturing at them both in turn, "he said _you_ should have a name. And _you_ should have another name."

"He did, huh?" Dean says, his own voice coming out kind of scratchy, and his head filling with the image of Christopher's new best friend _Jason_ who's come over to the house a couple of times already for dinner.

"Yes," Christopher insists, scowling, "he says I should call you _Papa_ and _Dada_ or something. But that's just _stupid_."

Dean both doesn't want to know why that is _stupid_ , and needs to.

"You know, Christopher, you can call us whatever you are most comfortable with," Cas says, the grip he has on Dean fingers beginning to sting.

"I know," Christopher agrees with a happier smile, slurping at his juice.

Dean wants to ask, can feel Cas leaning forward wanting to ask too, but doesn't get a single word out.

"And you already _have_ names," Christopher adds, which puts more tension in their grip. "You're _Dean_ , and _Cas_."

Dean smiles at that, and concentrates on the swirl of Cas' thumb over the back of his hand, telling himself he isn't disappointed. "That's right."

"So why do I have to give you _different_ names?" Christopher says with a haughty tone of voice that Dean tells himself does _not_ remind him of Cas.

"Well—"

"I'm just gonna call you _Dad_ and _Dad_ ," Christopher adds decisively, reaching out and slapping the table as a card escapes his grip and he tries to trap it.

Cas nudges his knee against Dean's beneath the table, and Dean takes a large gulp of his drink that he has difficulty swallowing.

"That's... it's—"

"We would like that very much," Cas finishes for him, his voice cracking again.

"We would," Dean echoes, "and we… you like living here with us, right, Christopher?"

Christopher beams back at him and nods.

"And we… well, we love having you here too."

"And you would... would you like to stay here with us? Permanently?" Cas asks, staring back at Christopher as intently as he is looking at him.

"Is this because Loren says we need _paperwork_ to stay together?" Christopher says, staring at them both.

"Uh—"

"Loren says we're already a _family_ , but we need paperwork with red stamps to make it true."

"That's… well that's… that's _true_ —"

"Paperwork is _stupid_. I'm keeping you," Christopher tells them decisively and taps the cards against the table as though he's bringing an end to the discussion.

Dean raises up Cas' hand to kiss the back of and Cas pretends to thumb away a tear, before Christopher is insisting they play and that he go first because he won the last game.

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...tell me you've heard of [Spot It](https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/63268/spot-it)?!


	35. The Winchesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> [dmsilvis on tumblr](https://dmsilvisart.tumblr.com/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for those of you who asked for a chapter from the POV of Dean and Cas' neighbors :) x
> 
> Just a quick recap:
> 
> Steve - former homeless man mentioned in chapter 26 and 29  
> Greg and Carl - neighbor and neighbor's boyfriend first mentioned in chapter 10 and 29  
> Robert and Karen Geary - neighbors first mentioned in chapter 10  
> Jessica and Todd - neighbors first mentioned in chapter 10 and 31  
> Josh and Simon Bilby... you know who they are by now  
> The Petersons - neighbors, father and son Cliff and Colin - first mentioned in chapter 10 and 29  
> Mr and Mrs Ferguson... you know who they are by now as well...
> 
> * * *

**Steve**

"Here you go, Christopher, this one is for you."

Steve watches as Christopher reaches out to trace over the outline of his omelet in the shape of a dinosaur before turning the biggest beaming smile up at him.

"Thank you, Steve."

"No problem," he replies, watching Cas steal one of Christopher's fries from the bowl he's brought over with his omelet and pull back in laughter for the stern look he turns on him.

"You can have some of mine when they arrive," Cas tells him.

"Okay, buddy. What are we drawing?"

Steve watches Dean snatch up the ketchup and pull back the lid, bottle shaken then poised at the edge of Christopher's plate. Christopher tilts his head to the side as though he's considering his question, and wriggles in his seat to get comfortable.

"I think he wants a tiger. To play with, not to eat," Christopher adds quickly, reaching out to grab Dean's hand before he can start to draw.

"One tiger coming up," Dean agrees.

Steve turns away laughing at Christopher's stream of commentary and Cas' solemn encouragement, peeking over the counter when he hears a cheer, and smiling at the high five Christopher gives Dean when he's done.

Generally, Dean and Cas bring Christopher here once a week like clockwork, which Steve puts down to the time Cas finishes at the library. He knows Cas a little better than Dean since it's Cas he's got so much to be thankful for. But looking at the family who would have become his favorite regulars anyway just for how happy they look together, Steve can't help but smile and thank whoever is listening for the Winchesters coming into his life. And the Winchesters have even more reason to look happy than normal, apparently. The reason he hasn't seen them in a couple of weeks is because Christopher's adoption was finalized, and they'd taken him away somewhere to celebrate.

Steve has been working here in this cafe for a few months now, and sometimes can't believe how his life has turned out. It might be a small, and far more simple an existence than a lot of people would want for themselves. But for Steve it's perfect; a few hours every day cooking and speaking with customers has built his confidence, made him friends, and given him a sense of purpose that, before Cas had approached him when he was homeless, had seemed unobtainable.

Steve smiles as he plates up the burgers and fries for Dean and Cas, remembering to heap a handful of the complimentary salad from Dean's bowl onto Cas'. Perhaps he gives his favorite customers a few more fries than he's meant to as well, but everyone here in the cafe loves the Winchesters, so he's sure no one will mind.

Their son is the most charming little boy. Both polite and well-mannered, and with a winning smile that Steve is sure gets him away with just about anything. He's turned into a complete chatterbox as well from the first time he'd met him, with not a trace of the shyness he'd once had. Steve's not sure, but he thinks every single time he's seen them he's overheard a conversation involving something about Star Wars. Today proves no exception since when he returns to the table with their food, he can't help but laugh at the mirthful smiles passing between Cas and Dean as Christopher tells them about a girl in class that he thinks is cool because she has an R2D2 backpack.

"Hey, Christopher. What color lightsaber do you think Steve should have?" Dean asks after thanking him for their food. 

Christopher wriggles to look up at him properly, clearly giving the question serious thought.

"I think orange," he says after a few seconds of looking him over.

"Oh yeah?" Dean says, smiling up at Steve with a silent _thank you_ for placating him. "And why's that?"

"Because. It's a smiley color. And Steve's always smiling."

Steve's cheeks hurt from smiling so hard as he ducks back behind the counter, still grinning helplessly as he takes the next order of food.

 

 

**Greg and Carl**

"Your neighbors are up awfully early," Carl says as he crawls back into bed after using the bathroom, and deposits himself on Greg's chest.

"Oh, I think they're going to see Dean's mom for the weekend," Greg tells him as he sweeps his hands over Carl's shoulders. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Carl says, looking up at him with a sleepy smile. "And that'll be why I saw Cas loading up the car with a ton of Tupperware boxes."

"Yeah, probably. Dean can't resist feeding just about everyone when he gets the chance. He's probably cooked enough to last them the whole weekend."

"Dean is an amazing cook."

"He is," Greg agrees, yawning a little and stretching, and smiling when Carl moves so they can turn back on their sides. "You're coming to theirs with me next weekend, right?"

"Like I'd miss out on that."

Dean's weekend grills have become something to look forward to for so many of their neighbors. Greg never knows how he does it, but no matter how many people show up, he never seems to run out of food.

"Good. You haven't met the chickens yet," Greg says as he stretches, grinning as Carl raises his head slowly to look at him with a solitary raised eyebrow.

"Chickens?"

"Two of them."

"As… pets?" Carl asks, the suspicion in his voice making Greg smile harder.

"Yep. Called _Groot_ and… _Gravy_."

Carl's laughter reverberates in Greg's chest as he wriggles back down the bed and hides there, pulling back at one point to wipe his eyes.

"The worst thing is. I can't tell if that's the kind of thing Christopher would have come up with, or if it was _Dean_ ," Greg adds, and it sets Carl off laughing again.

"It's not even that funny," Carl says, his voice high as he keeps giggling to himself, and this, Greg decides, is how he wants to spend every morning. Curled up in bed with Carl making him laugh over stupid, happy things.

"Move in with me," he says, becoming completely still when he realizes what he's just blurted out.

Carl's head lifts slowly again, and he's predictably wide-eyed and open-mouthed when he looks at him. "Did… did you mean that?"

"Well," Greg says, swallowing hard and looking away, "you're here pretty much every weekend, and half the week as well. I don't remember the last time we stayed at your apartment together. And you… well. You like it here, don't you?"

"You do have pretty awesome neighbors—"

"Who will covet your Star Wars memorabilia if we set it up everywhere," Greg finishes for him, still half-holding his breath.

Carl's smile becomes wider, his eyes beginning to light up with what Greg thinks is excitement. "You'd… you'd let me do that? Here?"

"If it's your home too, it's not about _letting_ you. It's about us… fitting our stuff together."

Greg can already see it though. Star Wars posters up amongst his steampunk prints, and graphic novels wedged in bookcases alongside all his historical novels. And now that he's letting himself think about it, he's been wanting to ask Carl to move in for weeks. The words just haven't found a way out of his mouth, until now.

"You… you want that with me?" Carl asks softly, like _he's_ the one that doesn't believe his luck.

Greg rolls him on to his back and rests a hand on his chest, relieved to find his heart is racing just as hard as his own. "I do. I do want that. I… you know I love you. Right?"

"Well. I do _now_ ," Carl retorts, beaming up at him before pulling Greg on top of him. "And you know I love _you_. Right?"

" _I do now_ ," Greg echoes, laughing as Carl wraps his arms around his waist and squeezes, and begins peppering kisses over his face.

"Then yes. _Yes_ , I wanna live with you. I wanna live with you right now."

Greg laughs as Carl flips them over again, their smiles for one another dissolving into kisses, and any plans for moving in put on hold for a couple of hours in favor of staying in bed.

 

 

**Robert and Karen Geary**

"That's the last of them."

Robert turns as Karen walks up behind him, drumming her fingers on the now-full bowl of the various herbs she's just collected. She's rosy-cheeked and smiling from collecting them all, and Robert can't help smiling as he reaches out to wipe away a smear of mud from her forehead.

"Did you roll in it?"

"No," Karen smiles, smacking him on the ass as she passes. Robert spins around and follows her back to the car, dropping off the weeds he's pulled into the composter Cas set up a few months ago, and wiping his hands on his jeans.

"Can you believe this place?" he adds before they climb in.

The land he'd bought for their proposal and wedding is now a flourishing community garden, with herbs and vegetables in neat rows and patches for anyone to help themselves. Cas maintains it, and all the neighbors help out from time to time, though most contribution comes in the form of financial rather than physical help. No one seems to make anything grow as well as Cas, and he's more than happy to be left to it.

"I can't. But then, I guess I can; I mean, look at the barn," Karen says, as they both turn to look on it with affectionate memories.

"Dean's got his stamp everywhere here too," Robert says, pointing out fencing that Dean made and installed, the terracing up between some of the patches, and the neatness of the tubs at the bottom of the garden where people donate things like seeds and bulbs when they're passing by.

"Yeah, but it's Cas that's just about everywhere around here," Karen says as they climb in the car. "Look how many yards are ones he's created or looks after."

They're on their way to see Karen's mom with the herbs, and as they make their way out of the neighborhood, they point out houses with yards they know are worked on by Cas. There's so many of them; by the time they're out on the main road Robert's trying to figure out Cas' schedule, and can't.

"Do you think he works too much?"

"Cas?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sure he's fine. It's not like he has to visit all these yards every day," Karen adds, slowing down as a car overtakes them, glowering after them for going too fast.

"True."

"I think they've kind of got the perfect life," she continues once they start moving again. "They both work their own schedules, it fits in perfectly around Christopher for school. They never seem to have anything to worry about. And when have you ever seen them fight about anything?"

"Never," Robert replies, shaking his head and smiling. "But that's just… remember when—well, you won't remember. But when Dean was helping me fix up the barn before I proposed, every other word out of his mouth was about _Cas_. He can't _stop_ talking about him."

"They do it all the time," Karen says, laughing. "Get either one of them on their own for five seconds, and all they can talk about is each other."

"Or Christopher."

"Or Christopher," Karen agrees. "It's funny. I kind of can't picture them without him now. Like he's always been there, you know?"

"Feels like he has."

"Remember that other couple that was looking at the house at the same time as Dean and Cas were?" Karen adds, with a slight groan in her voice.

"Oh, they would have been awful," Robert replies, thinking of the sullen couple who had come to view the property the week before Dean and Cas, who had scowled at Robert and Karen as they'd called at a _good morning_ , and showed nothing but disdain for the rest of the street.

"Dean and Cas had barely been in five minutes and they were over introducing themselves," Karen reminds him once they've turned another corner and slipped into more traffic that Robert hopes won't turn into a jam for the repairs they've been doing to the sidewalk all week long.

"Helps that Dean can _cook_. He's bribed his way into our affections," Robert adds, thinking of how many Tupperware boxes they've washed and returned, and how many dinners they've shared together at either of their houses.

"Well, yeah. We'd be idiots to turn down his pie."

"Which reminds me. And I don't know why it reminds me. What are we gonna take to this potluck Greg's having for Carl moving in?"

"Is this your way of asking me to make those sticky chicken wings you like so much?" Karen asks, turning to him with a smile.

"Maybe," Robert agrees, reaching out to squeeze her thigh. "Maybe you can make a few extra for us as well."

"Well. Doesn't really matter what we take. I'm sure anything Dean makes will be a thousand times better," Karen replies, lacing her fingers through Robert's.

"And that if you _tell_ him that, he'll blush the color of that beet Cas grows—and squeeze at the back of his neck like he's trying to break it to distract himself."

Karen bursts out laughing but nods in agreement. "I almost wanna do that on purpose now just to see it."

"You're mean."

"You started it."

"And I love you for it," Robert adds, earning himself another smile.

 

 

**Jessica and Todd**

"Take a box of juice for Christopher," Jessica calls out to Kate, since Hannah is already too far ahead to hear.

Kate turns on her heel and grabs the box from Jessica's extended hand, yelling and hollering to her sister as she chases her across the grass. This Sunday picnic organized by the warden Tabetha for one of the park's summer events is perfect, with not a patch unoccupied and a few new faces for both the adults and kids to get to know.

"Where are Dean and Cas, anyway?" Todd asks as Jessica makes sure the girls are out of sight, then pulls out a bottle of wine for them to share a glass of.

"Cas was filling up water bowls for the dogs," Jessica replies, laughing as Todd sneaks a look either side of them then holds out two paper cups for her to pour the wine into.

"And Dean?"

Jessica puts the wine back in the cooler out of sight and grins at the family a little over from theirs as the mom waves their bottle then does the same. "Uh…"

"Oh. There he is."

Jessica watches the wave of Todd's hand as Dean walks by carrying two fold-up chairs under one arm and a picnic cooler under the other. "The Fergusons?"

"Think so."

"Oh, yeah, definitely them," Jessica says as she spots Christopher flying towards them to be scooped up in Mrs. Ferguson's arms, clutching hard to the box of juice Kate's just given him.

"He's practically their grandkid."

"Yeah. It's nice."

Jessica knows the Fergusons own children live overseas but can't remember where. All the neighbors have always adored the Fergusons and vice versa, but since Dean and Cas moved in they've earned a special place in their hearts. She watches Mr. Ferguson rest an arm around Christopher's shoulder once he's down, and Cas and Dean straightening out the chairs around the picnic area they've set up so the Fergusons don't have to sit on the grass.

Kate and Hannah crowd around Christopher, who has also been given Albus' leash to hold. Jessica nudges Todd's arm so he knows to look when Hannah offers Albus a bite of her hot dog then wipes her hands down her dungarees in disgust when he eats the thing whole.

"She never learns with him," Todd says, laughing as Albus wags his tail in excitement looking for more treats.

"Nope. And Albus is gonna be in a food coma in about an hour with all the food he's going to end up with."

"We could get a dog," Todd says, and it calls Jessica's attention back immediately.

"You always said you never wanted a dog."

"Yeah. But look how happy the girls are," Todd says, smiling as he nods towards them playing with Christopher and Albus. "But I don't really want a puppy."

"No?"

"Jess," he says, taking her hand, and making her smile when he raises and kisses it. "Tell me Cas hasn't broke your heart a hundred times over telling you about all the animals he's rescued."

"Well—"

"I mean, look," he says, and Jess watches again as he searches around, nodding when he sees Josh Bilby in the distance with Frohike. "Cas rescued Albus, and a bunch of other dogs before and after Frohike. Look what Frohike's done for Josh."

"Well. Frohike _was_ a puppy when they found him," Jess points out, earning herself a prod at her thigh.

"I just meant, whatever pet we get the girls, I want it to be a rescue. I think it'll teach them more about caring for an animal that really needs a home than a brand new puppy ever would."

Jessica knows some of the neighbors think Todd's a little reserved, but they don't know him like she does. The softness in his eyes and the earnestness in his voice just now are two of the many things she loves about her husband.

"Well. I think that's a great idea," she says, surprising him with a kiss. "Though, I wouldn't object to a rescue dog _and_ the next kitten from whatever litter is born in Cas' shed. The cats around here must just… put out word for a cat hotel, or something."

"He's like some kind of magical animal whisperer," Todd agrees, wrapping his arm around her waist. "And did you just talk me into getting both a cat _and_ a dog?"

Jessica smiles and nudges against him. "You know. I think I did."

 

 

**Josh and Simon Bilby**

"You have everything?"

Simon watches Josh check his overnight bag for the third time and smiles when he smacks himself on the forehead and groans.

"I promised Christopher we'd paint," he says, already charging back up the stairs.

"Well, okay then," Simon mutters to himself, turning to fill up Frohike's biscuit bowl as the dog looks on bemused. "You know he's gone for the night, huh?"

Frohike looks up at him mournfully, and Simon can't resist those sad eyes, leaning down to stroke him on the head. They both turn to look as Josh charges back down the stairs with what looks like an old t-shirt and pair of sweatpants.

"What's that for?" Simon asks as he stands back up and watches Josh shove the clothes into his bag. "And… how many nights are you going for again?"

"Just one," Josh replies, smiling ruefully. "But Dean and Cas said they'd take me for lunch tomorrow when I get back from the paper round."

"One of these days, I'm gonna have to teach you how to pack."

"Maybe. And… we're painting," Josh adds, checking the bag a final time. "Last time I looked after Christopher, I was wearing these for it. Got covered in paint; figured it made sense wearing the same clothes for painting."

"It does," Simon agrees, and is hit with a surge of pride for Josh.

He's been so good with Christopher ever since Dean and Cas first began fostering him, always making time to play with him or stop to talk when he's passing on his paper round. Christopher idolizes Josh, and Dean and Cas can't speak proudly enough of him every time they see him. At times like this Simon can't help think of Marilyn, and hope he's done _her_ proud with what he's doing to raise their son.

Josh is a good kid, and Simon knows he's biased about it. But as he watches him fuss over Frohike and promise to be back soon, add a couple of things to their ever-present grocery list on the fridge, then turn and check his bag over one more time, Simon _knows_ he's lucked out with Josh.

"So. Where are Dean and Cas going tonight?" he asks as Josh throws the bag over his shoulder and adjusts the strap.

"It's a dinner for one of Cas' friends from the library. Apparently, Cas is driving," Josh adds, smiling to himself.

"Oh?"

"Dean said that there is somebody going to the dinner that Cas really doesn't like. And that if he drinks he'll probably say something he shouldn't. So, he's driving."

"I can't imagine Cas not liking anyone," Simon replies, and it's true. Cas is always the kindest and most generous of people, rarely without a smile for anyone, even when he's out for a morning run and is out of breath.

In fact, the only time he's ever seen something close to a scowl on Cas' face is when he's found an animal that's been abandoned and hurt. He's one of the most compassionate people Simon thinks he's ever met.

"You didn't see him outside the library last week," Josh says, shaking his head and giving the kitchen the once over like he's checking everything is in place.

"Oh?"

"There was this dick—"

" _Josh_ —"

"Well, he _was_ ," Josh insists, scowling a little himself. "He was losing his temper with this woman trying to park, calling her all kinds of… it was bad, okay?"

"And Cas?" Simon prompts, trying to picture the scene from himself.

"It was… badass," Josh replies, "he was just finishing work. It was when I was researching that paper for—"

"You mean, finding excuses to spend time with _Molly_?" Simon teases, knowing he's on to something for the instant blush on Josh's cheeks.

" _Anyway_ ," Josh says, raising an eyebrow and avoiding the subject, "Cas came out when this guy was yelling. Quietly walked up to him and told him to calm down. Guy got all shouty with Cas and was kind of… pressed up in his face."

Simon watches the way Josh presses his palm against his own face and grimaces. "What happened?"

"It was like… one minute this guy was just yelling, and the next—barely without even doing anything—Cas had him pinned with his arm up his back against the nearest car. And he just leaned in, calm as anything, and said something like _you will leave her alone_. The guy just _ran_ , faster than anything I've ever seen. It was awesome."

Simon thinks of the mild-mannered Cas, the way he cares for everyone around him, and tries to reconcile it with this other side of him he's now hearing about. He realizes he knows Dean far better, and remembers belatedly that Dean alluded to there being military of some sort in Cas' background. Then remembers the efforts Cas went to with Steve to get him help and accommodation, and decides he really needs to make the effort himself to get to know Cas as well as he does Dean.

"Well. That's… good to know."

"I gotta go," Josh says, checking his phone and adjusting his bag on his shoulder again.

"Okay. Well. You have a good time."

"I will," Josh says, reaching out for a hug, "see you tomorrow, Dad."

Simon turns to watch him leave, sighs for how quiet the house already is without him, and looks down at Frohike. "Well. I guess it's just you and me."

 

 

**The Petersons**

"All those flowers are from a few packs of seeds?"

Colin's face is a picture as Cliff tugs him to look out the window, staring at the wildflowers now growing beyond Dean and Cas' house.

"They sure are."

"I didn't… how'd they grow so quick?" Colin asks, adjusting the basket of laundry he's got on his hip as he peers out.

"I guess you'd have to ask Cas."

"Well. Looks like Cas is busy right now, so maybe later," Colin says, nodding towards the yard for Cliff to look.

Cas is on his hands and knees pointing something out to Christopher in their vegetable garden. Christopher is nodding, waving his hand across where they're stood, and Cliff decides they must be weeding.

"I guess so."

"We got the best neighbors," Colin says then, smiling, and Cliff can't help agree.

Their neighborhood has always been a nice place to live, but when the old couple next door moved out and the house was stood empty for a couple of years, the place had become both decrepit and a bit of an eyesore. That Dean and Cas fixed it up into something so beautiful means no one would ever guess at its former dilapidated state. They fit right in as though they've always belonged in this neighborhood, which makes them neighbors that are almost too good to be true.

But they're good people, always looking out for everyone around them. Both work hard at what they do, and are forever welcoming people into their home. And they never seem to argue; Cliff admits he'd been unfairly skeptical when they moved in, but is sure he's never seen a couple quite as loved up and suited to one another as Dean and Cas. And that they now have Christopher and are nurturing and raising this little boy together, really does make the Winchesters the best kind of neighbors.

"Yeah, we did," Cliff says to Colin in delayed answer to his question, taking the laundry basket from his hands. "We need to sort this. The last time we let you near the machine you colored everything blue with that sock."

"Mom'll kill me," Colin agrees as they make their way downstairs.

"She will."

"Don't tell her this," Colin adds as they make their way into the laundry room, "but Dean's pies are way better than hers."

Cliff thinks of every single slice of pie he's ever had from Dean on the sly, knows his wife has spent hours trying to get her pie crust like his, and smiles.

"I won't say a word."

 

 

**Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson**

The record player speakers are crackling when Rosemary comes in from the kitchen, with Albert dropping the needle in place on the turntable before holding out his hand.

"We've been dancing to this song for more than fifty years," he says as he takes her in his arms, turning her in a small circle in the lounge.

"I think we have a few more years of dancing still."

"My Rose. I will always dance with you," Albert tells her, and if she closes her eyes Rosemary can pretend it is the first time they danced to this song, as in love now as they had been all that time back then.

On the mantelpiece behind them is a collection of photos of all their children and grandchildren, and as they take a turn of the room the most recent addition catches Rosemary's eye. Christopher Winchester, proud in his new school uniform with the biggest, warmest smile on his face for the school photographs that were taken just the other week.

He's already such a sweet boy but this photo shows one day he'll be a real charmer, taking on the best characteristics of Dean and Cas alike. He has their quick wit, kindness, and can-do attitude for whatever he needs to get done. Christopher is thoughtful, and considerate, and also knows exactly how to wrap anyone around his little finger with the sweet words he says.

Dean and Cas have been here a little while now, and truth be told, Rosemary forgets exactly when they came. It feels like they've been here always, really, part of their family from the moment they met. They're even on good terms with Rebecca and Martin, and their extended families, joining in on Skype calls whenever they're around since they're both living in other countries.

"What are you thinking about?" Albert asks with a squeeze at her hip, calling Rosemary to turn her face to him and smile.

"Just our children. And our grandchildren."

"We're gonna have a full house in summer," Albert says with laughter that reveals just how much he's looking forward to it.

"We are. I still don't know quite where we're going to put everybody."

"I'm sure we can figure it out."

They _will_ figure it out, and they'll cram together and sleep on couches if they need to. Dean and Cas have offered their house as well, so when Rebecca, and Martin, and their respective families arrive, at least there will be somewhere for them all to sleep.

Dean's already taken over plans for half the cooking, Rosemary thinks, and Cas has plans for the yard so when they have a party and they invite the neighbors, the views around them will be spectacular. Rosemary has a feeling Christopher will be shy for the first day or two of their visit, but with so many children running around of similar ages that are his extended family, she's sure he'll be whooping and hollering like he often is when playing with Albus, or Kate and Hannah up the street.

"Sam and Eileen should have had their baby by then, surely," Rosemary adds, sure that Dean and Cas are going to be just as amazing uncles as they already are fathers.

"I think so. We'll have to invite them as well."

"Oh, Dean already knows they both are welcome anytime. And the little one; I forget if they know what they're having yet or not."

"I wonder if Cas will have another litter of kittens to rear when they arrive," Albert muses, guiding her to side-step Albus, who often seems excited to join in when they dance.

"Oh, knowing Cas, I would say so. The animals just flock to him like some kind of Dr. Doolittle."

"I still can't believe he managed to help that poor peacock."

"Me neither," Rosemary agrees, thinking of the limping, terrified bird that Cas had gently cornered in their vegetable garden and held on to until a rescue service arrived. "Though it couldn't have been in better hands."

"Our boys really are all wonderful with their hands," Albert says with obvious pride in his voice, "what with Martin being a surgeon, and Cas our animal and gardening extraordinaire. And there isn't a vehicle or machine in this world that Dean can't fix after just looking at it."

"It's true," Rosemary replies, thinking of the dishwasher that had gurgled and complained something awful until Dean had dealt with it.

"And Rebecca is so smart," Albert adds with even fiercer pride, probably because she is their youngest. "I half can't wait for her to meet Cas in person and see the two of them debating history and cosmology, and all those things."

Rosemary thinks of Cas' never-failing knowledge, and Rebecca's exuberance for the subjects she teaches—and Albert possibly being more excited than the pair of them for all the things he's looking forward to talking about. It's going to be quite entertaining to have them all in the same room. Martin might have a run for his money with Star Wars trivia with Dean as well, she thinks, smiling for the thought of that conversation as well.

"We lucked out with our kids, my Rose," Albert says, with a soft kiss on her cheek that Rosemary leans into.

"We did," she agrees, closing her eyes and letting her feet follow familiar steps, listening to the music playing, and thinking of their family.


End file.
